Controlled Chaos
by Crazylanie93
Summary: All I wanted was to show Gotham it didn't need Batman. I never could have dreamed the amount of trouble it caused me. Gotham may not need him, but I do now. I should have just kept my big mouth shut.
1. Free Speech

**I own nothing related to Dark KNight/ or Batman. I only own my Charactor Melanie Ryder. **

**Hey people, this is just a quick chapter just introducing everything, and the following chapters will definately be longer so no worries! :) Please review! I love advice! Enjoy.**

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_It'_s_ Dark and cold. I'm running down an alley and I feel the panic rising in me. I know he is watching me. The hair on the back of my neck stands up, and as I turn a corner, skidding in putrid garbage, I see the street ahead. Only a few hundred yards away. I hear him start to laugh, a loud cackle that sinks your stomach because you don't know how someone so evil can be laughing so happily. I reach the street, and am about to flag a taxi when I feel a gloved hand on my shoulder. _

"_Gotcha." His happy voice says. _

I wake up covered in sweat. The nightmare still trying to cling to my thoughts and I am afraid. I have never met the Joker, nor do I want to. But for the past two weeks, I have had the same dream over and over again.

I look at my bedside table. 3 AM.

I try and settle down, but my mind is to anxious to do anything but worry and think about why I keep having the dream. So after a few minutes I give up, and decide comfort food is what I need.

I head to my shabby little kitchen, and make myself a stale peanut butter sandwich. The light flickers as I eat, and I look at my small piggy bank in the corner to remind myself that this isn't permanent. Sure, it might be childish to have a piggy bank, but I don't trust the banks in Gotham enough to keep my money safe. Way too much crime for that. So I will just stick it out with my little piggy bank, saving every spare nickel and dime I can, to move out of this blasted city.

I moved to Gotham five years ago in the hopes of making my life worth living. I was kicked out of school, and became a journalist. Nothing big or front page worthy, but enough to get my foot in the door of Journalism.

I have been scraping by ever since, and still get the middle of the newspaper, or even worse. the obituaries. Nothing like writing up a bunch of stuff about the victims of the crime in this town. Sure, a few people died of natural causes occasionally, but most of it was muggings gone wrong or something.

I live in a small rickety apartment about three blocks from the narrows. Needless to say, When I'm not trying to write something, my house is filled with the noise of various neighbors who are everything from gang bangers, to prostitutes; police sirens, gun shots, and once I swear I heard _him_ laugh.

You would think that laughter would be welcomed in my part of the neighborhood. But I swear, when I heard that, my legs turned to jello. It's like it goes right through you, and spears you to the floor. Not exactly cheerful in the normal kind of way.

Kind of makes you wonder what he was so happy about...

After my sandwich, I hop in the shower, and after I've stood in the cold water as long as I could possibly sand it, I get out quickly. Brushing my messy brown hair, I think to myself. Maybe this time next year I will be famous. Melanie Ryder; Reporter for _the New York Times,_ or something as equally exciting. If you're going to dream, dream big right?

I head over to my bed, and pull out my little cardboard box from underneath my bed that disguises my laptop. One of the only nice things I own, I'm gonna do anything I can to protect it.

I open up a small article I have been working on called, _Batman: needed, but unwanted_. I have decided that I wish he had never showed up. Sure Batman is supposed to be the good guy. But I just can't help but think maybe crime wouldn't be so bad if there wasn't the challenge of trying to beat him.

At six, it's time for work. I grab my ID and head out the door. It's about a six block walk to the newspaper office, and not many people are on the street. I hurry to the office, and swipe my badge to be let in. I really hope this day passes quickly...

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I hurry home at a slow jog. I don't like being on the street after dark, and the wind is reminding me of my nightmare.

I published my article today, and am curious about what people will think. It's always risky going against the majority, and it's not something I do often.

I reach my apartment building, and as I turn the corner toward my front door, I notice something small on the frame.

As I walk closer, it becomes more defined, and I gasp in horror as I see it.

A Joker card is wedged in my doorframe with a message.

_"I agree. See you soon."_

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**I hope you guys liked this so far... I know it's a little short, but it is the first chapter... And It will totally get better! I just needed to introduce her lifestyle and stuff before I just jumped in! :D please review! Any ideas or advice might make its way into the story! **


	2. Unaccepted

**Okay, I have decided to update a few of my chapters with a little more detail while still keeping it to the already stated plot. So here is the updated chapter two! :) Enjoy.**

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><p>No. no no no no no...<p>

The small little card seems to grow larger and larger, and all I want to do is run away and never come back to this horrible place I call home.

I take it out of the wedge, and curiosity gets the best of me so I take a closer look. Is it just me or are the words written in blood? No. I won't let my mind think about it. It's probably just some teenager trying to be funny or something...

I take the card, and go into my house. I'm terrified he will be in there, but as I do a quick check, I see that I am alone. I set the card down on my kitchen table, and don't know what else to do with it. I wish I had never written that article. I wish I never came to Gotham.

My phone suddenly rings, and I just about jump through the roof. I pick it up and check the Caller ID. _Unknown_. I throw it down, and refuse to answer it. He couldn't call me could he? How would he get my phone number?

He got my address somehow though. So who says he couldn't have gotten my phone number?

No. That was a prank remember? I can't let this get into my head. That will just make me stressed and scared and I don't need any more of those feelings right now,

The phone rings again... I pick it up slowly, and look again and see that is unknown... I take a deep breath and press the green button.

"Hello?" I almost whisper.

"You know Melanie, I do not like being ignored." A deep voice says that sinks my heart to the floor. "When I call, I expect you to answer. Is that clear?"

I just stare at the floor in horror as I hear him breathe into the phone. I am way past being able to respond.

He clears his throat and then continues, "Well, it, uh, appears that you are very excited that I have called you, so I will just do you a favor. How's about I come over for a bit and we can, uh, _discuss_... Your article. Hmm?"

A small cry escapes my lips as what he says sinks in.

"Oh boy, you really are excited aren't you? I will be over in five minutes. Do me a favor and clean up a bit will you? I have no interest in seeing leftover bits of sandwich on your table." He laughs loudly and it is abruptly cut off as he disconnects.

He's been in my house? How else would he know I had left my sandwich on my table? No no no... Why did I have to go against the majority. I should have never written that article.

The clocks ticking. He said five minutes. I have to get out of here. I know what he does to people like me.

I grab my purse and run to the door. There is no way I'm going to just sit there and wait for a madman to come and knock on my door! I throw the door open, and run down the hall. I fly down the stairs and out onto the open street. I'm out of breath because I'm panicking and suddenly I don't know where to go.

The sound of my phone ringing reminds me of my small time slot and somehow I feel a sense of de ja vu.

I turn into the closest alley, and start running. I know it's dangerous, but it's the closest thing to a chance I have. I know my way around, and I know that if I can go through these dirty smelly buildings, I can get out somewhere around down town, where I should be safe.

Should.

Suddenly, my dream comes rushing back to me, and I almost fall down. What am I thinking running down an alley? I'm trapped! The walls seem to get narrower and narrower, and I feel a sense of claustrophobia that is almost choking me with its intensity.

Wait. In my dream, The Joker didn't catch me until after I had left the alley. So, if I don't leave, I should be safe right? I almost want to laugh with my relief. I don't know that he's following me, and I can just sit tight in this alley for a while and go to a hotel or something until I figure out what I can do.

I hear a van stop on a street close to me, and voices drift into my make-shift hiding place.

"You sure she's in here?" A gruff voice asks.

"Positive. Boss saw her go in here himself."

I have to move. I can't stay here and let them find me. The Joker was watching me? I guess running wasn't the most original idea...

I start to walk as quietly as possible in the opposite direction, and that's when I hear it. The laugh from my dream.

I can't help the instinct that flies through my legs. I sprint down the alley, and can feel his gaze. I feel like a bug under a microscope, and can't stop myself from following the same path that I've run in my nightmare over the past nights and weeks. I fly around the corner with the trash and see the light up ahead. I know he is going to catch me, but I can't think of any other option.

The exit beckons to me as I get closer, like the bright light people see when they die. I wonder if dying will hurt. Looking at the Joker's past, it seems like he likes to draw it out. I know from all of the obituaries I've had to write. I'm almost to the exit when I see a door slightly open. I fly into it without thinking, but instinctually knowing that the Joker isn't inside.

I am inside of an abandoned warehouse. You can see where all of the homeless and druggies have set up temporary homes for themselves around the metal pillars that are supporting the next level. It appears to be empty, but it can't be because someone had opened the door for me.

I glance all around me, and don't see anyone, but it does nothing to lessen the feeling that I am being watched. After a few seconds, a dark shape emerges close to me, and a hand blocks the scream of terror and surprise from my mouth.

"Shhh." A deep voice says. "They're outside."

The hand leaves my mouth and I whisper, "Who are you?"

"Don't you recognize me?" He laughs, "I guess you aren't my biggest fan."

He steps into a patch of light and suddenly, his words make sense. Batman. I should have known that wherever the Joker was, Batman wouldn't be far away.

"You saw my article?" I whisper.

"Yes. But don't talk. They're close."

What? He's telling me to be quiet? He was the one that was just laughing. I jerk away from him, and whisper, "You're the one laughing. Why don't you just leave? You're the one leading them here!"

"Shhh."

"No!" My voice rose a little out of anger. "Your making more noise than me." Wow. How old am I, five? Immaturity doesn't matter to me though right now.

Suddenly, I'm alone. I feel a little smug, thinking that I told Batman to leave me alone to his face.

A door bangs open, and I hear the Joker yell, "Well, well well Batsy! I'm impressed! You found my target before I even told you... I bet those bat senses were just tingling today hmmm?"

I duck behind a crate, and am petrified. Maybe I shouldn't have told him to leave. At least he could have tried to get me out of here alive and put me in the witness protection program or something.

"Melaniiiiiiieee!" The Joker calls in a sing-song voice. "Come out come out wherever you are! Are you having fun playing hide and seek? I know I am. You can tell because I'm always smiling!" He ends with a laugh.

How am I going to get out of here? I peek around the box and see five henchmen all holding machine guns, and in the center of the room is Joker. He is standing with his back turned to me. Light was shining off his reflective purple suit, and his blondish green hair. His body was almost attractive. He wasn't too skinny, and his posture was assertive, but also relaxed at the same time.

What am I thinking? The Joker isn't attractive! He's going to try and kill me if he can, and I am admiring his body? It must be the stress. It's making me delirious.

The Joker spoke again and said, "Fine, if you won't come out, than I will just have to come and find you! And just be warned, I cheat."

I duck behind the crate again, and hear him rustling his suit coat. After a few seconds, it gets very quiet. All I can hear is Joker laughing softly to himself as if he found a something that made him very happy.

Suddenly, my phone goes off, but strangely, it's not in my pocket. It's coming from across the room.

"Ring ring ring!" He says. "Gonna find you!"

How did my phone get across the room? _Batman_. The answer hits me as soon as I ask the question. He must have grabbed it when he was standing next to me. If he read my article, why is he still trying to save me? That doesn't make any sense.

"Found you!" The Joker exclaims from across the room.

"Are you sure?" Batman's deep voice responds, followed by the sound of a punch, and the Joker's crazy laugh. Without thinking, I stand up, and see Batman lift Joker up and throw him to the ground. "Leave her alone!" He shouts.

Strangely the henchmen just stand there and watch the fight. I'm not sure exactly why, but because of the Joker's happy laugh, I almost think that he has ordered them not to attack Batman.

I, on the other hand, have no such instructions. The stress has been dragged out for too long, and I can't take it anymore. "STOP!" I yell.

Batman, seems surprised for a second, and that's all the break Joker needs to make his comeback. He kicks Batman off of him onto the ground, and stands up.

"Yes, stop it Batman. Can't you see it's upsetting the lady? Haha..."

"No." I say. "If you want me, take me. Don't continue this pointless fighting! Batman, if you weren't here, neither would the Joker! Don't you see that if you just left, so would all these criminals?"

"Haha!" The Joker exclaims, "She's your biggest fan Batman! Fine, I will leave him alone, and Melanie, you are gonna come with me." He laughs in a way that makes me feel exposed and vulnerable.

I am then distracted by Batman getting off the ground. "She's not going with you." He growls.

"Ah, but she is, Batsy." The Joker pulls out a small switch and continues, "See this? I push a button, and a school full of itsy bitsy children blows up." He dramatically raises his arms up in a mock demonstration. "You don't want that do you?"

This seems to take Batman by surprise, and he takes a step back.

"Go Batman. I'll be fine." I say. "It's not like you owe me anything anyway." I walk over to The Joker, and he grabs my arm harshly.

His grease painted face is inches from mine. I had thought his pictures were frightening, but seeing him in person took it into a different level of fear. From the terrifying red slash across his mouth, to the black on his eyes that made him look soulless.

"Ooh. You are beautiful up close. Haha." He pulls a knife out of his pocket, and says, "Maybe we should have matching scars."

"No." I say trying to move my face away from the edge of his blade. "Please."

"Oh I get it. Save the exciting things for later right? I gotcha. See you Bats." He holds up the trigger, and slowly backs away, pulling me with him. His Henchmen follow, and as we leave, all I notice is Batman. His arms are extended part way as if to grab me back, and his mouth is turned down in disappointment.

Wherever I'm going, all I know is I'm afraid.


	3. Technicalities

**I know this one isn't as long as the other one, but finals and stuff are taking up all my time! Haha. :) Well I hope you guys all like this one, and please please please review! That would make my day! :)**

**oh, and special thanks to allthelovers for the suggestion in the last chapter! **

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><p>The Joker pulls me out of the building with a huge smile on his face.<p>

"Well, that was easier than I thought." He laughs.

After a few steps, a van speeds through the parking lot, and I find myself sad to realize it's not Batman. It screeches to a halt in front of us, and Joker happy says, "Now the fun can start! Don't you agree Melanie?"

"I-I'm not sure what you mean..." I stammer.

"Well, first, we are going to get you some scars..." He pulls out a knife, and brings it toward my face.

"Please, no!" I say, trying to squirm away.

He grabs my hair and pulls me close to him, rubbing the knife gently across my cheek. The metal is cold against my skin and tears start streaming down my face.

"Why don't you want to match?" He says, pulling the knife away. "Do you think they're ugly?"

"N-no." I lied.

"Well there has to be a reason. However, we don't have time right now anyway. Don't worry; we can talk about it later." He opens the door of the van, and roughly shoves me in. He gets into the passenger seat, and the van jerks into motion and quickly leaves the parking lot. In the front seat, I see Joker pull out the trigger he has threated Batman with, and press the button.

"No!" I yelled, but no one heard me, because the sound of the explosion was deafening. I tried to think of the closest school, but was confused as I saw the reflection of the blast from behind us. I turned in my seat to see the building we had just left burning and smoking.

The Joker abruptly started laughing, and said, "What? Are you that worried about The Bat? You seriously need to choose whose side you're on. If you keep changing sides, people might think you're crazy. But then again, they say _I'm_ crazy, and we know how wrong that is, now don't we?"

"I know you're a liar." I whispered.

"What?" Joker growled. "Stop the car."

The driver pulled over to the curb, and Joker got out, and was next to me in what seemed like an instant.

"What, uh, _exactly_, did you just say?" He leered.

_Uh oh_. Why did I have to say that? Why couldn't I have just stayed quiet?

"Don't make me angry." He threatened.

"I didn't mean anything." I say quietly.

"That's not what I asked. I said: What did you say?" He grabbed my hair again, and pulled me close to his face. His breath smells oddly of mint and I find myself intrigued instead of frightened.

"I said you were a liar." I said.

"Me? A liar?" He chuckles darkly and continues, "And what, uh, _exactly_ did I lie about, hmmm?"

"You said you were blowing up a school, not the building we were in."

"Haha! _That's_ what you are calling me a liar about? Uh, I _believe_ I said I would blow up a school if _you_ didn't come with me. And uh, you came. So I didn't lie about anything. I never said I was going to blow up that building and I never said I wasn't." He leans even closer and his mouth grazes my cheek, "Why? Are you uh, _worried_ that the Bat didn't fly away in time? Hmm?"

"No." I say, trying to pull away. I can't help the mixed feelings when he is this close to me. The panic I have been feeling all night is making it hard to decide whether I actually want him closer, or if I should try running and screaming for help at the next opportunity.

He pulls me even closer though and says, "Don't worry. If I thought he would be stupid enough to stay, I wouldn't have even blown the building up! I need some sort of entertainment around here!"

"I knew it! My article is right! If he left, so would all of the criminals!"

"Now wait just one minute hun, Batman came here for a reason. He came because there was crime. Do you think it would all just magically erase if he left?"

"Well, no."

"See? You've gone against your own article. And I've only had you for five minutes! Now what do you want to do, hmm?" He wiggles his eyebrows like a villain in an old black and white movie.

"I want to go home." I say, and look out the window.

"Awww, but you just got here! Think of how happy it would make me if you could call my place home!"

"Never." I say flatly.

That seems to ruin his happy mood. He grabs my hair, and growls, "Well, we will just see about tha-t." He clicks the 't' into its own syllable. "Looks like we are just going to have to keep you around and show you what it's really like to be a _bad guy_."

The van stops, and Joker pulls me out of the van by my hair. He drags me to a door, and inside of what appears to be an abandoned warehouse. I'm dragged up the stairs and into an old office. He closes the door behind us and I hear the click of a lock. "Welcome home _sweetie_."

I look around and first think that it isn't as awful as you would imagine a lair would be. The floor is dark carpet, and there are pictures on the walls. There is a dresser on one side, and a queen-sized bed in the center.

Then the smell hits me. It smells like garbage and rotting flesh. I can hear flies buzzing somewhere close by. The air is warm and stale and I wonder if there's some sort of air conditioner somewhere. Or at the very least a can of _Febreze_ somewhere.

I back up slowly and it seems to be an automatic reaction when suddenly, I bump into the Joker. His warm body startles me, and as I move to jump forward, he grabs me around the waist and says, "Isn't it wonderful? I cleaned up just for you."

I'm not really sure what to say, but I try and move away from him as subtly as possible.

"Lane! Didn't you hear what I said?" He snaps.

"Wh-what did you call me?"

"Well, every couple makes up pet names for each other. But since we are just getting to know each other now, I figure I would start out simple. How do you like it?"

Couple? Since when did that happen? I'm just a captive! Bait to lure Batman! Nothing more!

"We are not a couple! I yell, trying to break away. "You're a psycho!"

This seems to offend him even more, and he shoves me to the ground, which is a lot harder than it looks.

"Fine, girl. Than its isolation for you." Without another word, he is out the door, and I am left on the floor still not knowing what to do.

Who would have thought that this morning, I had woken up, had breakfast, and gone to work like any other day, not knowing that tonight, I would be at the Joker's so called 'home.'

It was just my luck...

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><p><strong>There you go! Like I said, I know it's a little shorter, but I didn't want to take too long getting it up here! So what do you think is gonna happen next? Review please! :D<strong>


	4. Used

**Well, here it is! Hope you all enjoy, and thanks for those of you who reviewed! :)**

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><p>I get up, and look around. I can't help the curiosity to try and find out if this really is the Joker's bedroom. Sure, I'm scared as ever, but I'm alone, and I need to try and find a way out. My survival instincts are stronger than anything else I'm feeling right now.<p>

Okay, so there are two doors in the room, the one we came in, and one on the other side of the room. I walk over to the second one, and open it. There's a shabby looking bathroom, which isn't very different from the one I have at my apartment. Okay, I see a toilet, a rusty sink, a shower and a cupboard.

I walk over to the cupboard and open it with mild curiosity. The hinges squeak quietly, and I am shocked at what I see. Rows and rows of prescription bottles are inside. I take one down, and it is prescribed to Harry Rienholt. The name is unfamiliar to me, and I move on. The next is prescribed to Gina Kellar. This continues with each bottle I take down, different names, and varying levels of medication. From aspirin to narcotics, they are all here.

I wonder what he uses all of these for. He wouldn't just use them all right?

I close the door and decide to worry about it later. I walk back into the main room and look around again. There is a small dresser on the far side of the bad and I walk over to it. I pull it open and see a gun. It is a large black pistol. I don't know what kind it is, but I am struck with an idea. _I can get out_. I pick it up and remember growing up watching my dad use guns in the back yard. I pick it up and find myself smiling. I am filled with such a feeling of confidence that the thought of failure doesn't even occur to me.

I walk over to the door I had come in, and try the handle. Another piece of luck. The Joker must have forgotten to lock it. I keep the gun in front of me, and walk as quietly as possible down the hallway. I can't see very well because the lights are off, and I stumble a little at first. At the end of the hallway, I begin to hear voices down the stairs. I try to listen as I creep down them one at a time.

"So what are you gonna do with her boss?" A gruff voice asks.

"I'm not a man with a plan. I'm open for uh, _improvising_. Why got an idea?"

"I do." I say, walking into the room. "I'm leaving _now_."

"Well well well," Joker says, not seeming surprised at all. "And how do you think you're gonna do that?"

"I'm going to walk out, and no one is going to come near me. Leave me alone, and I won't shoot." I see the door behind him, and don't exactly know how I'm going to get past the group. The henchmen are unarmed, but I can't fight them all.

I start to walk around them, and can't look away from Joker's eyes. They are alight with a spark of interest that I can't explain. He doesn't look scared, but he doesn't look angry either. As a matter of fact he looks not only intrigued, but also strangely happy. He smirks as if he can read my mind, and says,

"Better hurry sweets. I'm not gonna wait here forever." He finishes with a laugh that chills my bones.

I reach the door, and open it quickly. As soon as I can't see them anymore, I take off running down the road. I can't believe it worked! I am filled with the adrenaline of my escape and want to laugh as I turn a corner. I am in an alley, and slow down automatically. I need to figure out where I am before I keep running like this.

A muted noise behind me almost makes me scream and I turn around. At first, I don't see anything, but as my eyes search, I notice the familiar shape of my phone in a nearby dumpster. I walk over to it and pick it up with my free hand. How did it get here? The last time I saw it, it was with... _Batman_. He must know exactly where I am! He could save me! I flip it open and see a new text from an unfamiliar number.

_You need to go back. It's the only way to get close enough to arrest him. Please understand._

_-B_

Great. Batman is telling me to go back? Now what do I do? I can't go back to that psycho! No way! Never gonna happen! Never!

I storm off in a random direction. First I thought I was supposed to be bait for Batman, now I'm supposed to be used by him to bait the _Joker_? How was that ever going to work?

It wasn't. That's the point. I walk into an open street and still have no idea where I am. It looks like somewhere in the narrows. Great. I escaped one villain to be picked up by who knows who next. I continue walking aimlessly, and hear a car behind me. I duck behind a dumpster until it passes. I can't be too careful around here.

I open my phone again, and click reply.

_I'm not going back. Please help me find my way home._

Short sweet and to the point. He'd better respond. I would have more than just a couple of complaints about the masked vigilante if he left me stranded in the narrows with only my phone and the Joker's gun. Well, at least I wasn't completely defenseless.

A few seconds later, my phone buzzed again.

_Take a left, follow it for 3 blocks, and take a right to get home._

_-B_

He must be on the rooftops watching me. Well, at least I wasn't completely alone. I follow his instructions, hoping that Batman will keep any creepers from bothering me.

The wind picks up and I wrap my arms around myself to keep warm. I'm glad Batman is going to keep me out of this silly game. I had almost forgot I was carrying a gun, and when the cold metal touched my arm, I skipped back half a step.

After the three blocks, I turned to the right, but nothing looked familiar. I walked for about a hundred yards, and was about to turn around when I heard his loud, happy, infuriating voice say, "There she is! I'm so _glad_ I found you!"

No. The Joker couldn't be around here! Batman said he was leading me home!

I turned and frantically looked around me, trying to see where the voice was coming from, and noticed for the first time that two of his goons in clown masks were behind me.

"Stay back!" I warned, throwing the gun up in front of me. This couldn't be happening. How long had they been following me?

"Don't worry princess, they won't hurt you." Joker's voice came from behind me. I spun around, but still couldn't see him, so I directed the gun back at the henchmen. Joker's laugh bounced through the street, and echoed, giving the impression there were five Joker's laughing, not just him.

Suddenly, his hand grabbed my shoulder, and he pulled me around to face him. "We've been looking everywhere for you! Did'ja miss me?"

I push the gun into his chest and say, "No! Let me go or I'll shoot you."

He just laughs harder than ever for a few moments, and puts his face very close to mine. "Do it." He whispers, suddenly very serious.

My mind races as I try to think of a way to escape. He's waiting for my reaction, and I can hear the sound of his henchmen getting closer. Suddenly, I'm angry because Batman is probably watching this right now, and he still isn't going to come and save me.

That one push of anger snaps what little control I have. I squeeze the trigger.

_Click._

"Ha, ha, haa!" The Joker screams. "You actually thought I would leave you with a loaded gun! Well, I can honestly say, you don't disappoint. I wanted to see what you would do if I gave you an opportunity, and you sure are a _feisty_ one aren't you? Yes, we are definitely going to keep you around for a while!"

He grabs my arm and drags me to a nearby alley. I see his van parked, and he throws me in the backseat.

Wherever Batman is, I hope he's happy.

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><p>When we get back to the warehouse, it's the same routine. Joker grabs my arm and drags me up the stairs and down the hall. However this time, he puts me in the room next to the one I had originally been put in. It looks about the same, and I wonder why the Joker has all of these rooms set up with beds.<p>

Ick. Nevermind. I don't want to know.

"Kudos on your stunt before." Joker smiles. "I must say it, uh, made my day."

"I was trying to kill you and your_ happy_?"

"Oh yes. Extremely. You just proved that anyone can be pushed to kill if they are given the chance. And oh boy was it entertaining."

"I thought you were mad at me?"

"Oh Lane._ I could never stay mad at you_."

He pulls me into a hug, and I feel disgusting. I don't know why both Batman and the Joker decided to take me into their constant battles, but I don't like it.

I try and push him off me, but he only grabs me harder.

"I wish you would stop trying to resist. Maybe you would then realize that you uh, _like_ the attention."

I ignore him, and just try and put some space in between me and him. He reaches into his pocket and I hear the _thwick_ sound of a switchblade_. _

_Great_.

He pulls me forward, and puts the blade against my neck.

"Why can't you just uh_, cooperate_ hmm? Then life would really not have to be so difficult!"

The blade is sharp on my skin, so I whisper, "Okay. I'm sorry."

"That's more like it!" He approves, and pulls me in for another close hug. I stand still, feeling awkward, when he continues, "You know. You could be a little more convincing."

I'm afraid he is going to bring the switchblade back, so I put my arms around him lightly. After a few seconds, he seems satisfied and backs off.

"That will do for now." He winks. "See you later Lane."

He walks out the door, and I just feel confused. I don't know how long I'm going to be here, but I have a feeling he's not going to let me out soon.

I walk over to the bed, and lay down. I hope he won't come back tonight, and that I can just have a few hours to rest, and try to clear my head.

My phone vibrates and I look down. Another message from Batman.

_Sorry. It was for the best. Good Luck._

_-B_

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><p><strong>Well, there it is! Hope you all enjoyed it! :D I know you guys see the whole 'please review' thing with every story you read but I'm desperate! Thank you to everyone that did review the last chapter, but I saw that over 200 people looked at my last chapter, and yet I only have 10 reviews for all three chapters? Reviews will give me more hope tha tyou guys are enjoying the fic, so please please please review! :D<strong>


	5. Experiments

**Alright! Here it is... Sorry about the wait, but it was finals week. I am happy to say that finals are now officially over! Woo hoo! :) Hope you like this one!**

**Thanks to anyone who reviewed, and for the favorite story, or alerts! :) **

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><p><em>I'm in my office, working on an article, but I can't see the words. I squint, and get closer to the computer screen. Everything is blurry. I don't even know what I'm writing about, but my fingers continue to fly across the keyboard instinctually. I lean closer and closer, trying to make out the words until my nose touches the screen. <em>

_The joker's face appears and it takes up the entire screen. I almost fall out of my chair with surprise, and a scream escapes my lips. He is laughing his maniacal laugh, and as I watch, his features melt and darken, and suddenly I'm looking at Batman, who continues to laugh the Joker's insane laugh. _

My eyes fly open, and at first, I don't know where I am. I'm covered in sweat and hair is sticking all over my face. I'm gasping for air, and realize I'm still a prisoner here. Joker has me, and Batman has left me.

Sadness overwhelms me, and my eyes tear up. I don't know what I can do for help. I have no family, no friends, and my only companion is the Joker. I refuse to count Batman as a companion, because he has left me here with no more protection than a cell phone.

I sit up, and cover my face with my hands. This is not how I imagined life would turn out for me. I knew it was risky living near the Narrows, but it was the only option I could afford at the moment.

What would my mother tell me?

_Think positive_.

Yes, I'm sure that's what she would say. She was always strangely optimistic, but it came back to bite her in the end. Yeah, I'm sure she thought she could help all of those poor, helpless people in the halfway house, but the only help she ever gave them was the chance to show her why they were there in the first place.

I wonder if she suffered as they attacked, and beat her until she was unrecognizable. Of course she had to be in agony. But I wonder if she suffered emotionally. These were the people that she had tried to help. She had practically hand-fed them, and they turned against her like wild animals as soon as they got the chance.

Now she was in Arkham Asylum. Doomed to insanity and a life confined in a padded cell.

But she would want me to think positive so I try my best to find some positive aspects about my situation.

I am alive. Good.

I am physically unharmed. Awesome.

Batman is at least in contact a little bit. Okay.

Well, that's about it. I honestly can't think of anything else. What is it they always say on TV? Oh yeah.

At least it isn't raining.

That is positive. Although in reality I don't have a clue about the weather because there are no windows in this room.

Well, it's a start. I wipe the hair out of my face, and stand up. I walk into the bathroom, and notice an unopened toothbrush and some toothpaste. Alright, another positive. I open it and brush my teeth, wondering if the Joker legitimately cares about my hygiene needs, or if he has some other secret reason.

I walk out of the bathroom, and sit on the bed again. I'm not exactly sure what I am supposed to be doing. The Joker has left me in this room with no means of entertainment besides a toothbrush, and I think I will go crazy before I can entertain myself with _that_ for a whole day.

My phone buzzes, and it surprises me. What else could Batman possibly have to say to me?

_Try to go with him today. See where he goes and what he does._

_-B_

He wants me to ask the Joker if I can follow him around today? What's the point in that?

I stick my phone into my pocket without responding. My chances of actually going anywhere with the Joker are slim to none, and I don't think I need to inform Batman of that.

After about ten minutes, I hear a key in the lock. Joker opens the door, and says,

"There's my angel! Didja sleep well?"

"Sure." I answer sarcastically. "Being held captive makes you able to relax and sleep better than being attacked by rabid dogs."

"I just knew you would like it here!" He walks over to me, and continues, "So, do you uh_, need_ anything?"

I remember Batman's text, and try to sound polite when I answer, "Fresh air would be nice."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I was thinking about how you wanted me to see what real bad guys are like, so I was kind of hoping you would let me go with you today?"

He just looks at me for a second, and then his face lights up in a huge smile.

"You are starting to like it here aren't you?"

"I don't know... maybe." I lie.

Accomplishing this small task is almost too easy. Batman must want me to go outside, so that he can arrest Joker, and recue me at the same time. Suddenly, it all makes sense, and I am filled with excitement. I could be home by tonight!

"Well, I am glad, that you are seeing it my way." He pulls me into a tight hug, and I put my arms around him without much hesitation. Why worry about it if I am going to be free in a matter of hours?

He looks at me up and down as if appraising my worth.

"It seems I have underestimated you again Lane. Maybe you have a bad streak in you after all."

"No I don't." I answer quickly, almost ruining my act.

"Oh yes you do. Let me remind you. You started by turning against Batman. Then, you attempted to kill me with my own gun!" He laughs, "You are definitely coming along just fine."

I don't know how to respond and after a second, he continues speaking.

"Yes, I think I will let you come with me today. I can't _wait_ to see what you do! But we can't have you looking like that."

"What do you mean? What's wrong with how I look?" I'm almost insulted at the insinuation.

"Oh nothing. Like I said, you are _beautiful_. But you can't have people recognizing you if your robbing them."

"Robbing them?" My mind is in denial until I remember that Batman is going to rescue me.

"Oh, yes! We are going to find out just how bad, a little reporter can be!"

"O...kay." I say. I don't plan on actually robbing people, but it is the only way to get out in the open for rescuing.

"Now for your disguise." He says, tilting my head back and forth. 'He abruptly turns around and walks out the door. He comes back a moment later and gives me a clown mask. It has sad blue eyes, and a black frown. Well, at least its emotions are the same as mine.

I put on the mask, and immediately dislike it. It is hot, and it smells weird, and my face scrunches up as a reaction. I can see him through the eyeholes, and his face is calculating.

"No. I don't think that will do. You have too much of a pretty face to hide it behind that awful mask. Besides, those masks are for my henchmen, not my uh, _partner_."

He takes the mask off, and I am grateful that I don't have to wear it all day. I almost feel a pang of sympathy toward Joker's men, but it isn't strong.

Joker's face is suddenly smiling and he says, "I know just what we are going to do with you!"

He grabs my arm, and pulls me out of the room. I walk behind him, and realize that strangely, I'm not afraid. The thought of rescue takes up so much room in my head, it's almost worth going through whatever the Joker is planning so I can go home.

He pulls me into another room, and I wonder how big this warehouse really is. We are in another bathroom, and all along the sink are jars and jars of face paint. I suddenly realize that this must be Joker's personal bathroom, and am surprised. It really isn't as scary as you would expect. Besides all of the paint, it looks like any other bathroom.

"Are you excited?" He asks, gesturing to all of the paints.

"I'm not sure..."

"Well I know I am. Why don't you sit in this chair, and I will uh, _do the honors_? Hmm?"

I sit in a chair facing away from the mirror, and he picks up a jar of paint. He sticks his fingers inside, and I close my eyes. I jump a little when he starts rubbing the paint on my face. It's very cold and wet, and even though I was expecting it, I jumped.

I knew I should have fought against him more, but the truth is that I'm fascinated. When the Joker abducted me, I thought I would be dead in hours, but he honestly hasn't actually harmed me in any way while I have been here. Yes, he has threatened it, but the worst that has happened to me is when he threw me on the ground. As long as he keeps his knives put away for the next hour or so, I will be safe and everything will be okay.

* * *

><p>A short amount of time passes while the Joker's hands are rhythmic in their motions, almost making me relax.<p>

"There." I hear him say. "_Perfect_."

I open my eyes, and look at him with an almost drowsy look. I try to be alert as I turn and look at the mirror, and am almost awed as I look in the mirror.

My face is painted white, with deep purple diamonds over my eyes. I have a bright green smile painted over my mouth that matches his bright red one.

I am unrecognizable and beautiful. I can't help but love the way I look. For just a moment, everything I have been feeling in the past two days goes away as I look at myself in the mirror.

"Well? Do you uh_, like_ it?"

"Yes." I say, putting my hand up to touch my face lightly. I don't know what else to say, without telling him how deeply I feel like this makeup _belongs_ on my face.

"Oh, goodie!" He claps his hands together, "It seems I have a talent after all!"

He grabs my hand, and once again, we are going out the door. We go down the stairs, and into the main room where I had threatened all of them last night. The Joker's henchmen lurch out of their seats, and try and look alert. It's apparent that they had been lounging when they were supposed to be on watch.

"Look at all of you!" Joker says seeming irritated. "I leave you alone for half hour while I..._improved_, our guest and you think it's nap time!"

"No, sir." One mumbles.

"Well then what... _exactly..._ were you doing?"

"Uh..." Then henchmen hesitates, and in a flash Joker pulls out a gun and shoots him in the chest.

The henchmen falls over backwards, dead instantly, and I am speechless. I had gotten comfortable when the Joker put that makeup on my face, and now I was paying the consequence. I had forgotten just how bad he was, and now it was a harsh reminder.

"Now, when I tell you to 'look out'_... I mean it_." Joker puts the gun away. "Someone clean that up."

I take two steps back, and my mouth is open in horror. What do I do, what do I do? My mind is in denial of the past minute. I can't believe that things went from okay, to crazy this quickly.

"Now Lane, where are you going?" Joker says sweetly.

"I...I...don't."

I remember that the last person to stammer ended up with a bullet in his chest, and I swallow nervously. My eyes meet the Joker's, and all I see is his confusion.

After a moment though, his face turns into a smile.

"Oh!" He laughs, "I forgot! You probably haven't seen anything like _that_** before have you?"**

I shake my head slowly.

"Well, it's pretty exciting huh?"

"Not really." I manage to whisper.

"Oh yes it is. You'll get used to it, I promise!"

He takes my hand and leads me out of the building. A couple henchmen come with us, and one gets into the driver's seat of the van. Joker sits by me in the back, and continues to laugh quietly.

It takes all of my self-control not to cry.

_Where is Batman?_

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><p><strong>Questions? Comments? Confusions? Concerns? Hope you all enjoyed it! I will get the next one up ASAP! Have a great daynight wherever you are! **


	6. Theft

**Thanks to everyone that reviewed! You are all awesome! :D Hope you like this one!**

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><p>After a few moments, I control myself with the encouraging thought that I will be safe soon. There will be plenty of time for tears later. I sniff, and hope my makeup isn't smeared because it would give me away.<p>

Joker wraps his arms around me, and I try and shift away.

"Come on Lane, it isn't that bad."

"Isn't that bad?" I say angrily, "He will never see his family again! He will never get the chance to do anything ever again! Murder is bad."

He surprises me by laughing, but rather than being afraid, it just irritates me.

"Stop it." I say darkly.

"Ooh, or _what_?" He grabs my face and forces me to look at him. His breath is hot in my face, and all I want to do is hit him.

I don't dare to though, or I would be dead before we went another foot. Or he would drag it out, just to make me suffer.

I shiver, and push those thoughts away. I don't want to die.

"I'm waiting Lane." He says, voice going lower.

I'm full of angry, empty threats, so I don't say anything and after a moment, he continues.

"That's what I thought. You aren't going to do anything. You know why? Because I am _always_...in control. And if I decide that one of my boys doesn't need to mess up again... well than that's my choice."

"And if you decide you don't want _me_ to mess up again?"

"Hmm." He pauses for a second. "Then things will be very _interesting _won't they?"

I don't want to know anything else about what he is thinking, so I change the subject.

"Where are we going?"

"Ah, ah ah... Don't want to ruin the surprise now, do we?"

"I guess not."

The phone in my pocket feels like it weighs ten pounds. I'm worried that Batman might text me while I am this close to the Joker. What his reaction would be to _that_, I wonder.

He lets go of my face, and I turn to face the window again. I try and clear my head as Gotham blurs by.

* * *

><p>After about ten minutes, we pull into an alley. Joker grabs my hand and leads me out of the van.<p>

"The fun starts now." He says happily, and pulls me over to a wall. "Now I need you to concentrate Lane. Just let it come instinctually, and don't fight it."

"Fight what?" I'm dazed. everything is happening too fast, and I feel surreal.

"Oh you'll see." He leans close to me and whispers darkly, "Don't try and make a scene either. I'm not in the mood for bats to come ruin your first time."

I nod my head and pray that Batman will come find us. I can't believe this all started because I didn't appreciate what he was doing for this city. Why was I so stupid?

Joker pulls me back to reality by tugging my arm and leading me to the opening onto the street. For a moment we just stand there, watching people pass. It's interesting because Gotham's most wanted psychopath is not five feet away from them, but they don't even notice. They don't even glance into the alley or take their eyes away from the sidewalk.

"Is this normal?" I ask.

"Oh yes. Even you did this. You don't realize how blind these citizens are until you are on the other side looking out. So in a way, I've _rescued_ you, not captured you."

He laughs quietly for a moment, and then his face turns very serious. Only his made up smile shows any emotion. He becomes motionless, and I am confused as to what he is doing. It kind of reminds me of a show I saw on _Animal Planet_ with a lion hunting a gazelle.

Time seems to stop for a moment, and then he lurches out into the street. He grabs a small young woman and jerks her back into the alley in a split second. His hand is over her mouth and a knife is at the woman's throat before she hits the wall.

"Now ma'am." Joker says with a happy quiet voice. "My friend here is in a sort of training exercise, and we have decided that you can help." He laughs then and calls me to come over.

I walk closer, and wonder what the Joker is planning on me doing to this man. I'm certainly not going to hurt him, and maybe dying is the better option if it comes to that.

"Take this knife." He says, glancing at me. My hand goes out shakily and I grasp the handle.

_I'm not gonna hurt her. I'm not gonna hurt her. _I think to myself over and over like a chant.

I glace over to the street, and am surprised that no one is looking or pointing or anything. They just pass by, clueless.

I am distracted by a small sound that the woman makes. I turn back to her, and see that she is focusing on me and her eyes are only filled with confusion. She is probably confused about who I am. Recognizing the Joker from the news, but not me.

Joker pulls her off the wall, and down farther into the alley. We pass the van and go a few more feet around a corner. Joker lets go of the woman, but before she has time to do anything, two of joker's henchmen grab her, and cover her mouth.

Joker pulls me a few feet away, and says, "Now Lane, we are going to start small. I want you to take this woman's jacket."

"Her jacket? Why?"

"Because honestly, well, you look a little dirty and she has a nice clean leather jacket. It's not perfect, but at least it's a start. You can't expect people to respect you if you're wearing a dirty t-shirt and ripped blue jeans. At least a jacket will give you a rebellious look. "

He laughs, and I shiver. I don't want to do this, but it's a lot better than the stabbing or shooting I had been dreading he would try to make me do. And if I take her jacket now, Batman could always try and find her later right? Or lead me to her? So that I could return it...

"Fine." I mumble to the ground. If I do it fast, then maybe Joker will let her go. I wish I had been given the same option.

"That's my girl." He purrs, and I clench my fists together. I'm not his property, and I'm tired of him claiming some sort of ownership over me.

I take a deep breath, and decide not to push my luck trying to argue with him. I walk back to the girl, who looks like she is going to pass out, and say, "Could I please use your jacket?"

The girl frantically nods her head, and she seems grateful that my request didn't involve pain.

The Joker on the other hand, wasn't impressed.

"No no no." He walked up behind me. "That will _never_ do. If you want respect, you have to uh, _earn_ it. Not ask for it like a kid. Here. Let me show you." He reaches for the knife, and I jerk it away.

"No!" I say quickly, fearing for the girl's life.

"Now, missy. I am the teacher here. Not you. If you can't do something properly, then let me demonstrate." He pulls out a different knife, and grabs the girl by the hair.

"Hey." He pulls her close, and my mind tries to figure a way out of this. "Look here_... Look at me_!"

"Wait!" I say a little loudly. "I can do better! Don't... ruin the fun."

The last three words are my best attempt at stalling and hopefully sparing the girl harm. He turns and looks at me again, and starts to laugh. I stand facing him, and try to smile. Hopefully, I could just get him to believe my ruse.

"Well alrighty then!" He says happily, "Come show us how it's done."

He backs up a few feet, and I get a better hold on my knife. I don't plan on using it, but I have to at least _look_ like I'm willing to use force.

I walk up to the girl and glance at the goons holding her arms.

"Let her go. I can handle this." I drop my voice lower to try and sound threatening.

"No way. She's as good as gone if we do." One replies.

"Boys! Do as she asks! She can't get past all of us." The Joker says harshly.

They let her go, and she freezes like a deer in the headlights. I know she wants to flee, but I can tell that as she glances around frantically, she knows she has no chance of getting past everyone.

I squint my eyes and walk up to her, knife held out in front of me.

"Girl." I say flatly. "You want outta this? Give me the jacket."

She frantically nods her head, and I want to throw up. She is probably going to need therapy, and I'm the cause. My eyes water and I blink the tears away. I can't lose control now or the girl will surely pay for my weakness.

She takes off her jacket, and I hold my free hand out.

"Don't let it touch the ground." I say.

She hands me the jacket roughly, and I am relieved as I shrug it on. The Joker didn't interfere, and she didn't get hurt. Physically at least.

I hear the Joker clap behind me.

"Well done miss, well done. I'm sad you didn't do more, but it is a start." He flashes me a smile, and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a prescription bottle, and says, "This should erase it all nicely from her head."

The girl backs up against the wall, "No! I gave you the jacket! Please let me go!"

"Oh we will. If Miss decided to spare you, you can be spared. I just can't have you go and ruin the rest of my day now can I?"

He opens the bottle, and shakes a couple pills into his gloved hand.

"Here comes the train!" He coos.

He forces her mouth open, and pushes the pills in with his thumb.

She tries to fight him for a few moments, but gives up and swallows the pills. He picks her up, and puts her in the back of the van, shutting the door quickly after one of the other men gets in with her.

"What is he going to do with her?" I ask.

"Oh nothing. He's just there to watch her until the pills kick in. Then she won't remember what day of the week it is!" He laughs.

I look at the van and feel so sorry for what I've just done. Hopefully someday, she will understand that I am as big of a victim as she was.

"And now, we wait." Joker says. "You know, normally we would just kill her and be done with it, but it is your first day and I wanted to make it special. You could thank me you know."

"Thanks." I say quietly.

"Hmm? Sorry. It's kinda hard to hear you this far away. How's about I get a little closer huh?"

He comes right up to me and takes me by the shoulders. I look into his eyes because I don't want him to force me again, and see nothing. No light, no spark. Just flat and dark. I wonder if he has taken some sort of wacky medication today, but just don't care. I just want this all to be over.

"Now what were you saying Lane?"

"Thank you for not killing her." I say.

"Oh, Lane! Your welcome!"

He leans forward, and the side of his face rests against mine. I am so surprised, that I jerk my head back quickly, and look away. I want minimal physical contact with him, not to be touching faces.

"Aww, Lane! What did I say about being uh, _convincing_!"

"I just... Didn't want to smear the paint!" I lie quickly. Amazed at how fast I thought of it.

"Ohhh. Very clever!" He nods approvingly.

I break away from his hug, and am honestly surprised he doesn't grab me right back. I take a few steps away, and hear him continue behind me.

"You know, I am impressed that you did so well today! Maybe next, we could do some real damage!"

"What exactly would that be?"

"Oh I don't know... Hiding a bomb... Threatening a _group_ of people... Shooting someone... You know, normal stuff."

"Normal? Since when is that stuff normal?"

"You know Lane, I'm starting to get the feeling you aren't having fun out here. Even after everything I've done for you. Do you want me to kill the girl? Because I sure will, if keeping her here isn't doing any good."

"No! Don't kill her! Please."

"Well, if you can't think of anything fun to do, I don't see what else we could do for entertainment."

"_I do_." A gruff voice coming from the shadows says.

Batman had come to save me.

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><p><strong>Alright, hope you all enjoyed this one! I will get the next one up within the next couple days! I know you are all probably wondering what's gonna happen! :) What's Batman gonna do? Should he save her? Should she go with him? Opinions please!<strong>


	7. Betrayed?

**Hey! Thanks to my reviewers! You guys are incredibly awesome! :) Hope you like this one!**

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><p>Batman was standing in partial shadows, and my heart swells with hope.<p>

"Ahhh! Batsy! So _glad_ you could join us! Boys?"

Several of Joker's men start to walk toward Batman, guns pointed forward. Batman points his bat claw up, and fires it. He is lifted forward, and kicks two in the chest, knocking them onto their backs. He then jumps forward, and punches the third before he can register the threat.

"Let the girl go, Joker." He says, walking toward us.

Suddenly, the Joker grabs me from behind, and has a knife to my throat. The metal is cold, and it bites into my neck. I'm sure I'm bleeding, but the cut doesn't feel deep.

"Not another step Bat." Joker says, and it sounding like he's smiling. "You don't want to lose your biggest fan, do you?"

The _Joker_ is betraying me now? I can't trust anyone can I? It seems like everyone I put even an ounce of hope in betrays me in the end.

"Stop this now, Joker." Batman growls. "Why put all the work into it, if you aren't going to give it a chance?"

Did he just call me an 'it?' My respect just keeps going lower and lower.

"You know what will make me let her go? If you can rub your belly and pat your head at the same time! Do it and I'll let her go." Joker laughs.

Batman takes a step forward, and in response, the knife gets pushed deeper into my neck. I cry out in pain, and Batman freezes in response to the sound.

"Ah ah, bats. Not another step." The Jokers voice is a growl, and it seems like his happy mood is once again gone. I can hear his raspy breath behind me, and I think he seems nervous. I'm not sure if he has an escape plan, but with the Joker, you can never truly be sure.

There is nobody in between The Joker and Batman but me, and I'm not sure what I can do. My neck is bleeding because there is a knife being held against it. I'm not sure who's side I'm even on because both people have betrayed me, and it seems like there really isn't a chance of me getting out of this okay.

Suddenly, the door of the van slides open and a gruff voice says, "Alright boss. She's out. What do you wanna-"

I assume he has seen us because he cuts off mid-sentence. I hear him curse to himself, and shuffle out of the van.

A gun goes off loudly from behind me, and I look immediately at Batman to see if he's hurt. As I make eye contact, he lunges. He somersaults forward and comes up firing something in the direction next to me. The Joker cries out, and drops the knife from my neck. I jump forward, and run a few feet away turning around once I think I am out of range to be grabbed again.

My eyes search for the gunshot victim, and I see the henchman that came out of the van on the ground moaning. I don't know how it happened, but I think he must have shot himself.

I see the Joker and Batman fighting hand to hand. The Joker is wielding a knife in each hand, and swinging at Batman repeatedly without a pause. Batman is also trying to punch and kick Joker in between the swings of the knives.

Overall, it doesn't look like either is really winning per se, but it mostly just has the appearance of a dance. They are both partners, but no one is leading. They come together rhythmically, and jump back almost to a beat. The only things reminding me that this is important are Joker's words.

"Come on Bats, just give it up. You can't win, you know."

Batman doesn't answer, so Joker continues, "She's not going to be normal, now. She's bitten the apple. She'll want _more_." He laughs as his statement is returned with a punch to the face.

Batman takes the moment to advance on Joker to kick him in the ribs. The force knocks him over, and he hits the ground and the wall so he appears to be sitting. Batman hits him in the face again, and blood starts streaming from Joker's nose. The knives drop from Jokers hands, and clang on the asphalt.

Without another word, Batman turns around, and walks up to me. I don't know what to say, because my mind is still trying to process exactly what happened. I can't shake the feeling I have forgotten something important, but Batman distracts me.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah... I think so."

"That needs to be checked out." He says, pointing to my neck.

I had forgotten I was bleeding, and my hand goes up automatically to feel the wound. Blood is still flowing, and though I don't think its deep enough to damage, it's more than a paper cut.

Suddenly, my view starts to shimmer, and then darken. I feel dizzy, and when I try to regain my balance, the alley tilts sideways... Odd.

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><p>I wake up in a large bed. It feels like silk sheets, and the comforter is softer and warmer than I've ever felt in my life. I keep my eyes closed and smile to myself, trying to lock the feel of this bed into my permanent memory.<p>

My eyes flash open. How did I get here? Where _is_ here? I sit up, and my head gets dizzy for a second with the rush of blood.

The room around me is extravagant. The comforter on the bed is jet black with blood-red stitching. Blood? I remember seeing it somewhere...

Was it on my hands? I try to remember, and realize that, yes. Blood was on my hands!

I look down frantically, and don't see any... I flip my hands over and both sides are clean.

I take a deep breath and tell myself it must have been a dream. I look again around me. The carpet is a rich cream color, and it almost looks as soft as this bed. There are elegant black nightstands on either side of the bed, with a small red lamp on each.

The room doesn't look familiar at all. It still doesn't answer the question of how I got here.

I get out of the bed quietly, and stand still. I take a moment to try and listen to see if someone else is home, but all I hear is my own breathing, and my heartbeat.

The room has windows on two of its walls, and on one, there is a glass door, leading to a balcony. I walk over to the door quietly, and open it. I step outside into the morning air, with the hope that maybe I could figure out where I am by looking around.

I walk to the edge, when a voice from behind me says,

"Be careful."

I turn around and my hand flies to my chest in surprise. Batman is standing on the balcony next to the house.

"Batman?" I ask confused.

"Yes. Melanie, listen. Do you know why your here?"

"No... Do you know me?"

"In a way. Listen, this is very important. Last night, I rescued you from the Joker. He had abducted you several nights before, and I spent those nights trying to find you. Do you remember anything?"

"No, I..." I look at my hands, trying to figure out whether the blood was a dream or not. My neck twinges with the movement, and my memory comes flying back. I reach up to touch my neck, and find stiches over the place that the Joker had cut me.

"I do!" I say, looking back at Batman, "And you! You left me!"

"No I didn't. I've just rescued you." Batman says, sounding confused.

"Yes! You did! I escaped the Joker, and you gave me my phone, and just led me back! You said it was 'for the best!' You're just as bad as _he _is!"

"Melanie. I didn't give you your phone. If I had found you, I would have saved you like I did last night."

I pull my phone out of the pocket, and find the messages.

"See?" I say, handing the phone to him, "Right there!"

"Melanie, I would never send someone back to the Joker. Especially if they were ordinary people like you. And I would never _text_ someone to tell them they should."

He flips my phone open, and dials a number. He clicks a button, putting it on speaker.

It rings several moments, and a voice answers that drops my heart to the floor.

"Hello? Batman speaking." Joker says happily.

"You're done, Joker." Batman says darkly.

"Oh on the contrary, Batman, I'm just starting!"

Batman closes the phone, cutting off Joker's laugh, and I want to cry. I was so close to escaping, and the Joker had tricked me _again_. He knew the only way I would ever do what he wanted me to do, was if 'Batman' had told me.

"You're going to be okay now, Melanie."

"Okay? How am I supposed to be okay? I can't go home, I don't even know _where_ I am, and what am I supposed to do now?"

"Listen. I took you to the hospital last night. They stitched you up, and were going to release you to the police for questioning, but someone had an idea. Taking you to the police would be extremely predictable, and the Joker would show up there quickly. So why not just hide you somewhere he wouldn't look that was still well protected."

"I'm in some sort of safe house?"

"More like a penthouse. You are staying with Bruce Wayne for a few days. I don't know what you know about him, but he is the last person that the Joker would expect you to be with."

"Bruce Wayne? Why would he be okay with me staying here? Isn't he some millionaire that wouldn't want me to dirty anything?"

"I've talked to him, and he's fine with you staying here. He doesn't mind you staying in his home because he wants the Joker gone as much as anyone else."

I turn around for a second to figure out where in Gotham we are.

"When did you talk to him?" I ask, turning back only to find that I am alone on the balcony.

"Never mind, I guess."

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><p><strong>I know this one is a little shorter, but I'm trying to update regularly, and this chapter as you can tell is kind of a transition. Did anyone notice something missing? What do you think is going to happen to that piece of the puzzle?<strong>


	8. Intent

**Hey! This is my second update in one day, so naturally it is going to be a little shorter, but the unique thing about this chapter is that it is entirely in The Joker's perspective! :) **

**Please let me know what you think!**

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><p>I can never decide if I prefer dreams to real life. In dreams, you can do anything you can imagine, but then again, in life you can do the same. The problem with people is that they just don't realize that dreams and reality are woven on the same fabric.<p>

Sometimes though, if you're lucky, the fabric tears and beautiful chaos is born.

Where is Lane? Where did those little cops hide her? I _need_ her for my plan. Batman doesn't see it, but I can. I see it. The other side in her. Waiting for an opportunity to thrash itself and come out into the open.

I don't see why she didn't resist going with him. She was enjoying herself! I saw it! Oh yes, she thought she could hide it and 'pretend' she was having fun, but I saw it where it mattered. I saw the spark in her eyes when she saw how easy it was. Yes, she didn't even realize it herself, but it's there.

I need to find her and water the seed. I need to nourish it, and let it grow.

But there would be no fun in that. No. Not an ounce of fun to _nourish_ it. I need to rip it out of her. Reach inside and crush every part of her that is hesitant.

But in order to do that, I need to _find_ her.

The police station doesn't have any answers. Oh, boy those cops sure thought they were prepared didn't they? With their little pistols, and _assertive_ voices. Now whoever's left doesn't have a tongue to use such harsh tones with people. Apparently, their parents didn't teach them manners as they grew up. But that doesn't matter now, because I did.

If I were Batman, and I was trying to hide something the Joker wanted, where would I hide it? Somewhere close by obviously. He wouldn't want me to get a hold of her somewhere he couldn't reach.

Somewhere well protected. He wouldn't want me to sneak up and grab her.

Hmmm. Let's see. I'm going to need to do some _observation_, it seems. But as they say: _Distance makes the heart grow fonder. _

I prepare my stakeout by applying fresh paint, and selecting my uh, _equipment_.

I pack a grenade, 3 switchblades, some super glue, and a shock pen. It's always fun to be prepared for anything.

I consider bringing a pistol, but that just takes the fun away. If it really comes down to actually killing someone, a twitch of the finger really isn't what I consider a _good time_. Knives. Now those are fun.

Especially if you slip up. The metal biting into your flesh is delicious. It awakens every pore, the world becomes sharp and defined. Time slows down into a fantastic sea of ecstasy. You truly are _alive _for a few moments.

And the truly great thing about knives is that if you slip up too badly, you could die. And who wouldn't think that a gamble like that isn't _fun_?

I tell my boys to keep an eye out, and warn them not to slip up. I walk out alone and am determined to find her by myself. Yes, this is how it has to be because that will mean the most. If I send my goons out to find her things could go wrong. They could get caught, they could hurt her, they could squeal to the cops, and the list goes on. No, I must be the one to find her. Find her and convince her to come _home._

And I know she will. Oh yes. This time is going to be different though. She will come back because she _wants_ to. Not because I take her by force again. It will just take the right bait.

I take the van and drive to the better side of town. They wouldn't hide her in the Narrows. They wouldn't want her to slip out between the cracks and into the hands of Two-Face, Crane, or somebody else out of Arkham.

I stop in front of the police station and wait. If there is one thing I've learned in between Arkham and the streets, it's that anything in this world can be accomplished with a little _patience_. It may not be what you're expecting, but something will happen if you just take a moment and watch.

After an hour, Commissioner Gordon leaves, and I believe he looks a little nervous. He wraps his black coat around him more tightly even though it really isn't cold enough to _need_ the jacket in the first place. Yes, he knows something about the girl.

I watch him get into a plain little car, and when he leaves, I follow. A phone in my pocket that I had forgotten about buzzes, and I look at it with glee.

Ooh, it's Melanie! What should I do? She obviously knows it isn't Batman right? Better test, and find out for sure.

"Hello? Batman speaking." I say smiling.

"You're done, Joker." I hear the _real_ Batman say.

Aww, it's not Lane? Oh well. This just makes it more fun! This means he is going to have her protected nice and tight. Maybe it's good that I brought my grenade.

"On the contrary, Batman, I'm just starting!" I say laughing.

The line disconnects, and I frown. I didn't even hear her in the background. Wasn't he with her? She would have given some sort of sign she was okay, right? Didn't she know I would worry about my little journalist?

I follow Gordon's car a few more blocks and watch as he pulls into a parking garage. It's very tempting to interfere, but that would be counterproductive in my search. SO instead, I just park my van, and watch him leave the garage. I follow him on foot, but realize that it is almost morning, and I am extremely obvious on this side of town. So I pause for a minute and wait. I see a man walking my direction about my size wearing a black pea coat, and a matching black hat. That will have to do for now.

I pause behind a car until he is practically passing, and when the moment hits, I grab him from behind quickly and drag him behind the car. Luckily for me, the pea coat is unbuttoned, and that makes it possible to stab him without ruining my future costume.

His eyes widen in pain and alarm, and I put my gloved hand over his mouth to muffle his scream. He tries to fight me off, but I have aimed well, and he dies quickly. I take the jacket off, and put it on along with his hat. I am in a hurry to catch up with Gordon, so I roll the body under a car without a second thought. I stick my hands my jackets pockets, and transfer two of my knives into the pea coat for convenience. I button the coat up, and walk briskly to try and re-locate Gordon. I scan the streets, and see him turn a nearby corner.

I follow him quickly, and soon turn the same corner and set a steady pace behind him. I follow him several more blocks, and it seems that he parked out of the way to be less conspicuous. How _thoughtful._

We are approaching a large building which seems familiar to me somehow. When have I been here? Oh, yes. Mr. Bruce Wayne's..._fundraiser._ I remember now. Could Gordon be going to Wayne's penthouse? Or is she hidden somewhere in the lower levels? I can't follow him inside today, but I know one thing for sure. Lane is being hidden in that building. _Perfect_.

I head back to my van, and leave the garage. As soon as I exit, Gotham Police are everywhere, sirens blaring, and going into the garage behind me.

There's nothing like a little chaos to make the morning more _interesting_.

Be safe, my little Lane, because tomorrow, it's my turn to rescue _you_.

I head home and as I drive, I plan. There is no question that by tomorrow morning, she will be back. And boy are we going to have some _fun_!

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><p><strong>Alright! What do you all think? Is it okay that I shift perspectives like this, or should I only write from Melanie's perspective? Let me know!<strong>


	9. Introduced

**Alrighty then, sorry for the delay, but I really didn't want to rush like I accidentely did on the last two chapters... :) Enjoy! **

**(Oh, it's Melanie's perspective again... )**

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><p>I head back inside the penthouse pondering Batman's words. I wander into the bathroom, and decide that a shower would probably be number one on my list of priorities. I start the water, and find a towel in a drawer under the sink. I am about to get undressed when I decide that it is probably a good idea to lock the bedroom door. I know I'm protected here, but I don't want anyone walking in while I'm in the shower.<p>

I try to remember the last time I actually took a shower, and am repulsed to realize it was before the Joker kidnapped me.

I lock the door, and head back to the bathroom. Before getting in, I look at myself in the mirror. My reflection is almost unrecognizable. My hair is matted, and bushy. My once bright brown eyes now have dark circles under them from both lack of sleep and stress.

I reach up to feel the line of stiches in my neck. Sharp twinges of pain answer every time my fingertip brushes a stitch. The soon to be scar starts below my right ear and continues in a jagged line until it's under the center of my chin.

I'm pretty sure that someone once told me that if you put vitamin E on a scar, it fades faster. Mr. Wayne surely has some somewhere wouldn't he? Maybe I could ask to use some. He would understand my reasoning wouldn't he?

I see small patches of white paint in my hair, and feel nauseated. Yet another reason I need this shower. I want to get rid of the past once and for all.

I shower quickly, and wash my hair twice. I feel a little obsessive compulsive thinking that I might have missed a speck of paint or dirt, and want it all completely before I go and meet Mr. Wayne.

He probably already has stereotyped me as some junkie girl from the Narrows that got into some trouble, and I need to show him that it's not true.

I get out of the shower, and sigh. I guess I just have to put on my smelly dirty clothes again, but at least my hair is clean. I get dressed and try my best to brush my hair with my fingers. After a few minutes of trying however, I just give up and look in the mirror again.

Well, I'm certainly not perfect looking, but it will have to do. My hair is about half as matted as when I started, and my eyes look a little lighter without all of the grease and dirt around them. I must admit that I do feel better, and am glad I could clean up a little bit.

I walk out of the bathroom, and back to the bedroom door. I hesitate before turning the handle, and have to remind myself that I am not being held captive anymore and that I can open a door if I want too.

I turn the knob and open the door, reminding myself again that it's not wrong. I poke my head out and look in both directions. The room I am in is almost in the middle of a long hallway, and there are several other doors on both sides. I'm not sure exactly where to go, but figure looking around is a lot better than just standing here like an idiot, so I decide to go to the right.

As I walk, I notice that there are no pictures on the walls whatsoever. It doesn't detract from the overall impression, but I've never been in someone's home that doesn't have pictures _somewhere_ on its walls.

I get to the end of the hallway, and turn a corner. I am now in a large living area, and when I say large, I mean huge. The room itself is at least two stories high, and small hanging lights are hung everywhere. Two walls are actually windows from floor to ceiling, and the view of Gotham is spectacular. There are two ivory couches against one wall, and a mini bar set up against the other.

I figure that this must be the room that Mr. Wayne has his parties in. I've seen pictures at work of his front page worthy parties, and it seems to match. I can't guarantee it though, because it's usually full of people, not just me.

"Impressed?" A slightly British voice asks behind me.

I jump, and turn around quickly. An older man in a tuxedo is standing on the edge of the room. I have no idea who he is, and he definitely isn't Bruce Wayne.

I just stand there, silent. I'm unsure of what to say to this stranger, because I don't know how he got in here, or why he is talking to me.

"My sincere apologies madam. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Alfred Pennyworth. I am Mr. Wayne's butler." He bows slightly, and walks toward me.

"I'm... Melanie Ryder." I say, a little awkward.

"Yes. Well it is a pleasure to meet you Miss Ryder. If you need anything at all while you are here, please don't hesitate to ask."

"Umm, okay. Thank you." I say.

"Are you hungry?"

"A little." I say. In all honesty, I'm starving, but I'm still nervous and that's what comes out.

"Well what sounds good?"

"A PB and J?" It's the first thing that pops into my head, and it makes Alfred laugh.

"Ahh, yes. I believe that we do in fact have everything in order to make a... _PB and J. _I'll be back in a minute._"_

He then turns, and walks smoothly out of the room, leaving me alone again. I turn back to the room and am in shock. I've never had anyone outside of a restaurant make me food like that. Well, besides my parents when I was a kid, but that's different.

I walk across the room slowly, and close my eyes. I try to imagine being in heels, with a flowing dress around me. A live band is playing soft music, and I sway to the rhythm. I'm surrounded my friends and even people that don't know me. They have all come to celebrate. Cameras flash as they laugh and toast to each other's success. The scene makes me smile as I spin.

I am lost in this moment of perfection when I see a man walking toward me through the crowd. He has dark eyes and hair, and is very handsome. He is smirking about something, and he is looking at me, so I look down to see if I've spilled something on my dress.

But I'm not wearing a dress. I'm wearing torn jeans and a blue shirt. I look back up and my surroundings melt around me, leaving me alone with none other than Mr. Bruce Wayne standing in front of me. I just stare at him for a moment with my mouth slightly open when I realize that my hands are still in the air. I drop them quickly and look at the ground, blushing deeply.

"Sorry." I mumble.

I'm answered my a light laugh. "Sorry?" He asks. "What are you sorry about? Believe me, you are not the first, nor the last person to dream in here. I've even done it."

"What? Why?"

"Oh you know. The same reason you did. To try and escape reality for just a few moments, and just imagine perfection."

"But isn't that your life all the time? Your Bruce Wayne right?"

"Please. Call me Bruce." He smiles and extends his hand, and I shake his hand slowly. "And, yes, this may be my life, but hey. I'm only human."

"That's true." I say, looking around.

"So do you remember why you've been brought here?"

"Something along the lines of protecting me right? Because my apartment isn't safe, and I'm some sort of a target?"

"Yes. And my friend at the hospital told me that this is one of the last places that The Joker would look. So please, while your here, make yourself at home."

I shudder convulsively as Bruce's words echo the Joker's.

"_Think of how happy it would make me if you could call my place home_!"

Bruce sees me shudder, and his eyes cloud with concern.

"Are you alright?" He asks, "Did I say something wrong?"

"Yes. It's just that when-"

"Here you are madam." Alfred says walking into the room. "A peanut butter and jelly sandwich."

"Ah," Bruce says, "I see you have met Alfred."

"Yeah. A few minutes ago." I say quietly, trying to get the Joker's voice out of my head.

"Enjoy." Alfred says as he walks over to me, and hands me the silver plate.

"Thank you Alfred." I say, taking the plate.

I'm answered with a slight bow, and then he swiftly leaves the room.

"Melanie," Bruce says, "You were saying something about..."

He is interrupted by his cell phone buzzing in his pocket. He pulls it out, and after reading something, looks at me.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go now. It appears I had forgotten about a meeting with someone. Please make yourself... comfortable, and I will be back in a half hour."

He then turns, and is out of the room before I have the chance to say anything.

With no Alfred, and no Bruce Wayne, I decide to walk around again. I'm not really sure what else to do, and it seems like a good enough option to me. I find a door on the other side of the room and open it quietly.

Poking my head in, I can see that it is an extravagant kitchen with too many appliances to name. It's fantastic to look at, and is one of those sights that you would only think existed somewhere on TV on a cooking show.

I sit down on a tall chair at a granite-topped island, and eat my sandwich. I've never really enjoyed being by myself places, especially in other people's homes, but strangely, I feel comfortable here.

I finish in a few minutes, and walk over to the sink. I rinse off my plate, and don't see a dishwasher, so I just set the plate on the counter. I feel awkward leaving it there, so I leave quickly. I walk past the grand room, and down a new hallway. My curiosity gets the best of me as I peek into every room I pass.

I find several bathrooms, three guest rooms, several closets and the ornate door at the end of the hall is locked. A silver keypad is next to the door, and I'm guessing that it is Mr. Wayne's bedroom.

I get to the end of the hall, and the last door is open slightly. I am about to poke my head in, when I hear voices coming from the other side. Still curious, I lean closer and listen.

"Did anything go wrong?" I hear Mr. Wayne ask.

"Well," A man's voice answers, "He cut seven officer's tongues out at the station."

Bruce curses softly and continues, "Was he looking for..."

"Yes. Apparently he told them they were being rude to their guest and because they weren't giving her location, he said he needed to teach them manners."

I shiver lightly. I really hope they aren't talking about me. But how many psycho's are looking for women hidden by GPD today? I can only think of one.

I edge closer to the door to try to see who Mr. Wayne is talking to. At first, I only see Bruce, but after a moment, the other man shifts and enters my view. He looks like he is in his mid-fifties, with dark hair and square glasses. A salt-and-pepper mustache also covers part of his mouth. I recognize him from the newspaper. I think his name is Lieutenant Gordon. I don't remember his first name.

All I remember about him is that obviously he works at the police station, but I think that I saw a story about him faking his death to catch the Joker about a year ago.

"Well he's going to learn some himself one of these days." Bruce says darkly.

"Well I sure hope so." Gordon responds.

"Did he follow you here?"

"I can't be positive, but I'm pretty sure he did."

"Good. Well it seems Batman was smart with his plan. He should be able to grab Joker very easily while he is distracted by the chance to get her back."

"Oh yes. I'm sure his plan will work. I just hope she isn't hurt more in the process."

I can't believe it! I'm another pawn! When will I ever just be allowed to live the rest of my life? Why can't I seem to get out of this trap?

I turn around angrily, and retrace my steps back to the room I woke up in. Why can't I just make my own decisions anymore? I throw myself on the bed and grab a pillow. I bury my face in it and try to figure something out.

First, I make a list of what I know.

-The Joker is hunting me.

-I was 'rescued' by Batman.

-Batman has set a trap and I'm the bait.

-The Joker hurt officers and is somewhere outside the building looking for me.

Now that I have a solid list, I need a plan. If I wait here, I will be caught for sure. Gordon thinks I'm going to get hurt in the process. Sure Batman is probably somewhere close, but it's no guarantee that he won't be busy with a robbery or a mugging when Joker makes his move. No, it's too dangerous to stay. I need to leave.

The only question left is to figure out how.

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><p><strong>What do you think she's gonna do? Is it even going to work? :)<strong>


	10. Escape

**Alright, a quick note before you read, I just want to let you all know that Melanie is not a Sue. It may seem close at times, but you never hear stories about the people that aren't important right? So whatever you think about this chapter, (especially toward the end) Don't sigh and give up. Please. :) Review if you want any changes or if you have an idea that you want to incorporate! I can try and work things in!**

**Thanks for my loyal reviewers, and for all of the alert/favorites! They make me super happy!**

**Oh, and thanks to Neverland Child for the FANTASTIC link to an awesome video! :) It inspired an idea for a possible oneshot... :)**

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><p>As I lay, I try to think. I probably can't just walk out of the place. The way that Gordon and Bruce were talking made it obvious that I am bait. They also made it clear the the Joker is outside somewhere.<p>

He's trying to figure out a way in, while I am plotting to get out. The thought is almost humorous. I can only hope that we don't meet in the middle...

This is Bruce Wayne's penthouse. I don't think a man as important as him would live in a place unguarded. Although I'm not a prisoner, I don't know how I am supposed to get past him and out.

Even if I do manage to escape, where am I supposed to go? I still can't go home. But I could try to stop there, and get my savings to go somewhere else. Maybe a cheap hotel or something for a few nights. And I could try and find some relative to call. It's a poor plan, but at least it's something. But to even get there, I need to get out first.

I pick myself up and decide to look around again, but to focus on exits and ways to create a distraction. I leave my room and start in the grand room again. I ignore al of the fancy things around me, and try to focus. I don't see any doors with locks, so I doubt I can get out from here.

I turn around and am surprised to notice something I had neglected to notice earlier. Two metal sliding doors were against one wall.

_An elevator_.

Maybe this could be easier than I thought. But before I go running down an elevator, I want to take another quick minute and try to find another option.

I head outside on a huge balcony, and look for a fire escape. It's not really convenient, but it will do if the elevator doesn't work out. I walk to both edges and look but I don't see one. What kind of building doesn't have a fire escape? Isn't it against the law or something?

I guess if you're a multi-billionaire you can afford to break the laws.

I glance down to the street and realize how high this floor is. My view shimmers, as the ground seems to move side to side causing me to feel slightly motion sick. I am about to back up when something catches my eye. Two people are standing directly outside the building. The only reason they draw my attention is that they are the only things stationary below me. Everything around them moves quickly and yet the two of them just stare at this building.

I'm too high to see any detail about them, but I'm left curious as I back away from the railing.

I walk back inside, and am happy to see that I am still alone. I remember the elevator, and walk briskly over to it. I press the down arrow on the side, and smile as I hear the elevator making it's way up to the penthouse. I only need thirty seconds and I can get out. Thirty seconds without Alfred or Bruce coming in and stopping me.

After a moment, the doors slide open, and I hop inside quickly. I look at all of the buttons and see "Lobby" at the bottom. I push it, and wait for the doors to close, feeling ecstatic that I'm making progress.

Seconds tick by, and nothing happens. I hit the lobby button twice more, and bounce a little as I wait. I find the button that closes the doors and click it too. I would hate to be caught this early. The doors remain open however, and I sigh in frustration. Why would the elevator come if it wasn't going to take me down? Then I see it. A small numeric metal keypad above the floor buttons. A little red light flashes, and it all clicks together to make sense. I need a password to work the elevator.

Great. That means I can't get out the easy way. I need a new plan.

I walk out of the elevator, and am angry when the doors close behind me.

"Hey!" I say, as I hit the metal with frustration. "Why didn't you close when I wanted you too?"

Am I talking to inanimate objects because I'm crazy, or is that something normal people do? I turn around, and walk away fuming. I need to find another way out. I can't give up only after one try.

I walk down a hallway, and decide to try more doors. I'm disappointed though, after the first door, because it's familiar, and I see that this is the same hall that I already went through. I have to keep reminding myself that this is a Penthouse, not an actual house, so it is bound to be small_ish_.

I walk back into the fundraiser room, and stand there awkwardly for a moment, unsure of what to try. I am only alone for a minute however, when I hear footsteps coming down the hall. I turn around and see Bruce coming with his hands in his pockets. He looks deep in thought, and a little troubled.

"I'm sorry that I'm here." I say, looking at the ground. "I don't want to be a burden."

He looks up and his eyes widen a little. "A burden?" He asks. "Miss Ryder, you are in no way a burden here. I volunteered my home, and it is definitely big enough for two people."

"Ahem." Alfred's voice startles me a little. I turn to see him standing on the side of the room patiently

"Sorry Alfred." Bruce says, "Three people."

I smile a little, and look back down.

"But if I hadn't written that article about Batman, I wouldn't be here, and everything would be fine."

"I don't know about _fine_. The Joker always seems to create chaos around Gotham. He would have done something with or without this trigger. Who knows? Maybe he would have blown up a school if you hadn't shown up."

He looks down for a moment as if he has said something bad, and then I remember the night when Joker kidnapped me.

"_See this? I push a button, and a school full of itsy bitsy children blows up. You don't want that do you?" _

I tilt my head a little and say "How do you-"

_BOOM!_

The echoing crash comes from below us. It rattles the floor, and I wobble a little as I try to regain my footing.

Bruce and Alfred meet eyes for a moment, and that second is all it takes for them to get into action.

Bruce grabs my arm, and hurries me over to Alfred.

"You know what to do." He says quickly, as Alfred takes my arm with surprising force and leads me down the hall.

"What's happening?" I ask.

"Well, it appears that the Joker is after you again Madam. We are going to protect you."

"We? What about Bruce? Where is he going?"

I struggle to turn around because he isn't following us, and I don't know where he's gone.

"Bruce has specific instructions from the Police. They require him elsewhere."

"Oh." I trail off.

Another explosion rattles the building, followed closely by a third. When the shaking stops, Alfred pulls me a little more quickly, and we get to a metal door. He presses his finger against a small panel beside it, and I hear a small click. He pushes the door open and leads me inside, closing the door firmly behind us.

"Are we safe in here?" I ask, nervous.

"Of course. Do not underestimate the power of Wayne Enterprises. We are completely safe."

"We sit in silence for a few minutes, and I examine my surroundings.

We are in a small room with metallic walls. Light comes from recesses in the ceiling where it meets the walls. There is a small cupboard on the opposite wall that I imagine stores food, and a small box attached to the wall with a red cross on the outside; marking it as a first aid kit.

There are no windows, making me feel slightly claustrophobic, but I repress the feeling. There's no need for a panic attack in here.

After a few minutes, I sit down against the wall, and am about to ask Alfred something when his watch beeps.

"I'm sorry Miss Ryder, but I am needed elsewhere. Please stay here, and I will be back in a few minutes." He says with a frown.

"Um, okay?" I say.

He presses his finger on the wall again, and leaves the room. But before the door can close all of the way, I stick my foot in between it and the frame.

It's my only chance. I have to get away from here, and protect Bruce and Alfred. He's after me, and I don't want anyone else hurt because of it.

I pull the door open, and check to see if Alfred is gone. When the coast is clear, I hurry out and hear the door click behind me. It's too late to change my mind. I head down the hallway, and stop at the end. I close my eyes and listen.

The sounds of screaming and gunfire come from my left, and I follow it, hoping it will lead me out. After a minute, I smile when I see that I am right. The front door is slightly open, and I slip out quickly. I run down the hall way and to the main elevators. I hit the down button, but nothing happens.

I want to hit myself when I realize they must have turned them off with this emergency. I see a sign pointing to the stairs, and I'm not happy, but it's my only option. I run down the hall, and push open the door. I run down the stairs, and try to concentrate on not falling.

I only make it about ten floors when I run out of breath. I allow myself thirty seconds to catch my rest. After the thirty seconds, I continue downward, just at a slower pace. The further I descend, the more I have to compete with other people coming down.

I make it to the fifth floor, and I have to stop. I feel dizzy, and my adrenaline is waning. I push the door open onto the floor, and am happy to see it empty. I slouch onto the floor, and try to get the world to stop spinning. I put my head in between my knees, but it doesn't really help, and I feel like I'm going to throw up.

I hear footsteps, and look up. My vision is clouded with dark spots, and I can't see who it is. I look at the floor in front of me, and try to focus. Purple shoes come into view, and I'm confused. Who would wear purple shoes?

"Lane! I'm so _glad_ I could find you."

Oh no. I really am going to puke. Only out of fear this time instead of exhaustion. I look up, and my stomach drops as I look into his deep, joyful eyes. His paint is fresh, and he's grinning from ear to ear.

"What's wrong?" He asks, "You don't look very, uh, _happy,_ to see me!"

I swallow nervously, and he grabs my arms. He pulls me up and looks me in the eye.

"Now Lane, I came here for a reason." He said.

"What?" I whisper.

"You've_... changed_. Me." He whispers close to my face.

"I don't understand." I stammer. How the heck could I have changed anything about him?

"When I made the mistake of having you rob that poor woman. When you left, I realized what was missing from my life."

Please don't say it's me. That would be absurd.

He continues after a second, "_Goodness_."

"Huh?" It's the only noise capable of coming out.

"The ability of being a, _good_, citizen. Like you." His gloved hands squeeze my shoulders, making me more nervous. "I've never felt like this before! I need you to uh, _teach_ me."

"Teach you? To be good?" I manage to whisper.

"Yes." He says dramatically. He looks down at the ground and says, "Ever since I was a teenage boy, I've been a criminal. Don't you think it was time I _changed_?"

I don't say anything, but am unsure of how to get out of this situation. He looks back at me, and his eyes seem to plead.

"Look," He says. "I understand if you don't. want. to. But think of all the good I could do if I was given the chance!"

"I... Don't know." I say.

Then he says the one thing, I would never guess from the Joker. "Please."

The word crumbles my defenses. I know it probably is only because of stress, but it doesn't involve knifes, or guns, and it can keep Bruce from getting hurt.

"Okay." I say softly. "I'll go with you."

* * *

><p>We make it down to the main floor, and its utter chaos. Smoke is everywhere, and people are moaning on the floors. We walk down a side hall, and out an emergency exit, but the alarm is already blaring so it doesn't make a difference.<p>

There is a black SUV waiting and we get in the car quickly. The driver starts it, and we leave quickly.

As I see Gotham passing by, I can only think about Bruce and Alfred. I hope they aren't too worried. I hope they are okay as well.

One question remains though. Where did Bruce go?

I have no idea and I let one tear fall for everything that has happened in the past hour.

It's all my fault.

* * *

><p><strong>Okay, what did you think? Is the Joker lying? Is he telling the truth? Why? :) Thanks for reading, and tell me what you think! :)<strong>


	11. Lost

**Alrighty! Here it is! Hope you all enjoy! **

**I know I told several of you that I would have it up a few days ago, but in an effort to show me that although I'm 19 years old and I bought this computer myself, my parents decided to take it for the weekend. :) (and by the way, it was not out of punishment. They just _wanted_ to do it.) **

**Thanks to my reviewers! You guys are amazing, and the motivation for me to continue writing this story!**

**Hope you all had a great Easter weekend! :D**

* * *

><p>"Well. That went better than I expected." Joker says casually.<p>

"What?" I turn to him. His eyes are glazed a little, and he is chewing one of his scars absentmindedly. His head swivels in my direction, and he smiles.

"Oh nothing you need to worry about now Lane."

"What do you mean? You can't start to say something, and not finish it."

"Oh yes I can. And I did. I finished what I was _saying_. I just didn't explain _why_ I said it." He clicks the 't'.

"Whatever."

I look back out the window, but he continues talking.

"So Lane? What are we gonna do first?" He laughs.

"What do you mean?"

"You're my _teacher_. How am I going to become a, uh, _good guy_, if I don't know how? Hmm?" He licks his bottom lip and I shiver a little.

"I'm not really sure what you want me to do..." I pause. "It's not like there are... steps."

"Hmm. Well than we will just have to keep you around for a while to uh, _help_ me out when I need it." He laughs. The sound is still a cackle and whether he thinks himself good or not, and my stomach churns.

I take a moment to observe him. His purple suit gleams without defect, along with his shoes and gloves. It's obvious that he takes extremely good care of himself, and so he can't be _completely_ mental. His paint appears fresh, although it's faded in the creases of his face because of his constant smiling. He darts his eyes around quickly and I notice that they really are somewhat glossy. I try to think of a reason and wonder if he is on some sort of medication. He tilts his head, and his greasy green hair covers part of his face, blocking my view of his eyes.

The car stops at a red light, and that's when I hear it. The sound of high acceleration of a vehicle behind us. I turn my head, and see a large bulky motorcycle weaving through the cars behind us. Joker laughs happily, and says,

"Now. The fun can _really_ begin!"

He grabs the handle of his door, and I cry out, "No!"

He pauses for a moment. "No? Why _not_?"

My mind races for an answer and after a moment, it hits. "Because that's not what regular people do. They don't fight _against_ Batman. They let him fight for Gotham."

"You fought against him. Why can't I?" He chuckles darkly.

"Expressing Free Speech isn't fighting. It is an opinion. Stay in the car." I say firmly.

He seems to think for a moment, at war with himself.

"_Fine_." He spits. His hand releases the handle, and he sits back in his seat with a huff. "I didn't think that trying to be a respectful person would be so _boring_."

"It's not boring. It's just fine. And we _can_ have fun."

"Oh boy!" He drips sarcasm. "Let's go window shopping, and buy a cotton candy! _Woo_!" His face is a scowl.

"That's tame. There are lots of other ways. But... you'll need to take off your paint."

"What?" His eyes go dark, and his lips turn down in a scowl.

"Well, you're kind of er...Conspicuous. You know?" I say quietly.

"No. No, I'm. _Not_." He crosses his arms, and I can tell he's not going to make _that_ step yet.

"Okay." I say, raising my hands in front of me. "We don't have to do that yet."

He licks his lip, and looks at me darkly. My stomach drops, and I look down. I begin thinking that this was a mistake. But what other choice did I have? It's not like anyone could save me back there.

The motorcycle passes the window loudly.

_Batman_. He could save me right now. I just need to get out of the car. My hand reaches for the handle slowly. I don't want to catch the Joker's attention. I grasp it gently, and pause. I don't want to go back to Bruce Wayne. I don't want to go back to the GCPD. Sure I got out once before, but the odds were I probably wouldn't have been able to without the Joker. I guess in a way I owe him.

And who knows? Maybe if he really is trying, he will just let me go after a while. It's my only real chance.

I sigh, and let go of the handle. They say good things happen in time, right?

The motorcycle turns and comes spinning back toward us. The light turns green, and as the car pulls forward, Joker's driver asks, "Uh, Boss? Whaddo I do?"

"Turn. Get out of here." Joker says, still sulking.

The car lurches to the left, and we almost sideswipe a Ford. My head slams into the window, as Joker's body lurches into mine. He laughs hysterically, and I shove him off roughly. My head hurts, and tears form in my eyes as a reaction.

The Joker looks at me and his emotions cloud into something unrecognizable.

"I'm supposed to be good now, right?"

"Um, yeah." I say, rubbing my head. "That was the plan."

"Then why are we _running_ from Batman?"

"Because... I don't know. That's what we are supposed to do." My tone is harsh because f the pain in my head.

"But good people don't run. They volunteer and turn themselves in." He starts smiling. "And that's just what I am going to do!"

"No!" I don't know why I want him to stay, but my arm reaches out impulsively toward him. "That's not a good idea!"

"Oh, on the contrary Lane, it is a marvelous idea." He laughs, and grabs the handle of the door.

I don't know what to say to him as I look at his hand.

"Oh well." He says, looking sadly at the floor. "At least you tried, Lane. But justice needs to be served, and well. I've been a bad man. They'll probably be nice, and just give me the lethal injection to do it; although the electric chair might be more entertaining."

He throws open the door and rolls backwards out of the car. I hear his laugh echo, and turn backwards in my seat. He is rolling on the ground, and Batman's motorcycle swerves to miss him. At first, Batman continues after the car, probably intent on my rescue. But gunshots ring out, and I that Joker has stood up, and is firing wildly all over the place. Batman turns around, realizing that Joker is the bigger threat, and speeds in his direction.

My view is cut off however, as the van turns again, and we are on a new street. One of Joker's men has reached out, and closed the door, and I hear the click of the locks.

"Where are we going?" I ask quietly.

No one answers me, and I repeat myself a little louder. With no answer a second time, I give up, and turn out the window. Why didn't Joker's men turn back? Why did they just let their leader give himself up like that? What if he doesn't come back?

What if they kill him?

* * *

><p>We get back to the warehouse, and I walk inside in a daze. I'm still in shock, thinking about his last words about the death sentence. They wouldn't really kill him though right? He's criminally insane! They don't kill insane people. They aren't in control of themselves.<p>

I feel dizzy, worrying about it. My vision blurs a bit, and I stumble trying to keep my balance. I'm seeing double, and I look at my hand. It blurs in and out of focus, and I dimly notice how slick and red it is.

Am I bleeding? How did that happen? Oh right, I hit my head on the window. _Ouch._

I look back up and take another step. Wow, the world is spinning, and I can't see straight. I see a table a few feet away and try to walk to it. It rushes toward my face, and suddenly my vision turns black.

Sharp, hot pain slashes across my face and I grab it instinctively. My eyes fly open, and the lights above me are all I can comprehend. They are blinding me with their swaying brightness. I feel nausea building up inside me, and the last conscious thought I have is curiosity as I feel arms pick me up.

* * *

><p>I wake up in a bed with a pounding headache. I don't know where I am, or how long I've been asleep. I'm just focused on the pressure on my head. It is the worst behind my left ear.<p>

_Boom Boom Boom_... In time with my heartbeat.

I open my eyes slowly, and am happy to see that I am in a dark room. The darkness allows my eyes to adjust, and I lay in silence for a moment. I reach up and put my hand over my eyes.

I feel something on my right cheek, and remember the Joker. Oh no! How long have I been asleep? Is he back?

Curious, I feel my cheek even more. Whatever it is, it's rough and hard and starts from the edge of my cheek, and reaches almost to the bridge of my nose. After a few seconds of touching it, it starts to hurt. My memory seems foggy, and I realize I must have hurt myself somehow.

I sit up slowly, and it increases the pounding in my head so much that, for a moment, it's all I comprehend. When it subsides a little, I try to collect my thoughts.

The Joker may, or may not be in Arkham right now. In fact, there are so many possibilities of his whereabouts that I decide to save that one for later.

I am in his warehouse-hideout place right now.

_Thump._

I am not sure when I can leave.

_Thump._

I don't know if Bruce and Alfred are alright.

_Thump._

I don't even know if they are hurt.

_Thump._

What is that noise?

_Thump._

It is coming from somewhere close by, and I close my eyes to try and hear it better. Is someone else here?

"Hello?" My voice is scratchy.

_Thump._

"Can you hear me?"

_Thump._

"Does that mean 'yes'?"

_Thump._

I shake my head, confused. The pounding of my headache is making this all questionable. I don't even know what to do right now.

I lay back down, and close my eyes. I don't even have the energy to try and figure out what the noise is. Or if it is even real.

Maybe I'm going crazy...

* * *

><p><strong>Okay, I know the Joker just got back, and now he's gone again, so my bad, I'm sorry. :) Don't kill me! <strong>

**Hope you all enjoyed it!**

**What do you think she's gonna do next? What was the Thumping noise? **

**Reviews are awesome! ;) Just saying...**


	12. Fear

**:) I'm happy to say that I have finished another chapte, and would absolutely love feedback. **

**Thanks _linnie kinda spinnie_ for becoming my new beta!**

**And a huge thank you to all of my reviewers! :)**

**I still don't own Dark Knight... But last night I did have a dream I was in the movie... So that counts for something right? **

**Anyways, enjoy!**

* * *

><p>My eyes open, and I feel stiff. I stretch, and realize that I must have fallen asleep again. The good news is that my headache is gone. I sit up, and frown. I feel like I am forgetting something, but I don't know what it is. I remember having the headache, and wondering about the Joker. But I feel like there was something else that I was trying to figure out.<p>

After a few moments, I give up, and slowly get out of the bed. I feel a little dizzy, but it's not overwhelming. I look around, and find myself inside the familiar bedroom that I was in before.

Not the smelly first one, but the nice second one.

I walk over to the bathroom, and gasp when I see myself in the mirror. I belong in a horror movie. My eyes are shallow, and have deep shadows underneath them. My lips are chapped, and pale. My cheeks are thin, and almost creepy looking.

But what's worse is the scab. I must have fallen last night, and a huge gash is trying to heal on the side of my face. It's a jagged thick red line, that runs almost the entire length of my cheek. Tears of sadness overflow, and I look down at the healing scar on my neck. The stitches have fallen out, and its puckered pink line seems to mock me. I cover my eyes with my hands and let the tears flow.

I cry for what my life has become. Fierce shudders rack my body as I try to deal with it. I'm scared of my new face. I'm worried about Bruce and Alfred. I'm worried about Batman. I'm worried that my life will never return to normal.

And worst of all, I'm worried about the Joker.

* * *

><p>After a while, the tears decrease in intensity, and I slowly pull myself together. I wipe my eyes, and splash my face with water from the sink.<p>

I never really cry a lot, but when I do, I've figured out that it really is best if I just let it flow. And usually, if I'm lucky, I can let it go and focus. I can't really let this situation go, but I feel that now I can start to move forward.

With a new attitude, I walk through the bedroom, and out the door. I walk down the hallway, and decide to talk with the Joker's men.

When I get downstairs, I find several of them lounging with their feet up, and I put my hands on my hips.

"The Joker wouldn't like that you know." I say.

They look over at me, and I realize how small I am in comparison to even one of them.

"So?" One of them asks. " S'not like he's here anyway."

"But he could come back." I say.

"Nah. If he comes back, it won't be for weeks. He's probably down in Arkham again."

"If?" I ask.

"Well sure he usually gets out. But you heard 'im. He doesn't wanna anymore. They'll probably just kill'im and get it over with." The man states with a snort.

"They wouldn't kill him!" I say.

"Ah? And why's that?" He turns in his seat to stare at me.

"Because... Well."

"That's right. There ain't no reason they won't kill'im. So I guess we could just let you go in a few days if he doesn't come back.." He smiles. "Then again, maybe we _won't."_

My eyes widen in fear, and the man just laughs as a reaction. I decide I had better just leave or the man might interpret my staying as an invitation for something else.

Instead of going back upstairs, I take a look around the first floor. Behind the staircase is a hallway and I flick a light switch on as I go into it. Have you ever noticed that in scary movies, the girl always goes into a dark room or hallway without trying the lights? Yeah, I'm not going to be that stupid.

I pass several empty offices, and start to think there is nothing interesting down here. Although, I'm not really sure what it is that I'm looking for, so I continue walking.

Toward the end of the hallway, there is a door that stands out apart from the rest. The first thing I notice is the face. Well, it's not technically an actual face, but it looks like one. Two big swirls of black make the eyes, and a crimson slash below them makes a bloody smile.

Surprisingly, I'm not intimidated, or afraid. I go against my better judgment, and walk up to the door. Below the face, my name is scrawled in crimson in little letters.

_Lane._

Does The Joker want me to go inside? What did that mean?

I take an uneasy breath, and push the door open. I turn on the lights, and walk slowly inside.

I am in a medium sized room that has the appearance of an office or study. There are shelves along one wall holding various items such as books, jars, and playing cards. Along the back wall there is a small desk covered in a stack of paper, a telephone, and a small lamp.

I walk over to it, and turn the lamp on. Most of the paper is covered in drawings. Insane smiley faces, and elegant swirls cover page after page, and their almost mesmerizing in detail. On every page, the same sentence is written.

_Where do you stand? _

Stand in what? Is it literal or figurative?

If it's figurative, he may be referring to who's side I'm on. And the answer would be easy. Mine. I just want to get as far away from Gotham as possible, but it doesn't feel like I'm going to get that wish very soon.

If it's literal, than I'm not quite sure how to answer. I'm in a room that I believe is meant for me. The room is in a warehouse where The Joker has assumed his privet throne. Yeah, that answer sounds stupid.

I sigh in frustration, and look down. I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing, and I'm not sure how I feel about everything that has been going on.

Suddenly, the phone rings shrilly, making me jump. After watching it for several seconds debating, I decide I may as well answer it because it's in the room that had my name on it, so I can answer it if it rings.

"Hello?" I ask, picking up the receiver.

I'm answered by deep, raspy breathing.

"Who is this?" I say angrily. If someone is really trying to prank call The Joker, they are seriously messed up.

"What are you gonna do_, girlll_?" A deep, terrifying voice asks. "What are you gonna do when they kill him?"

My hands start shaking, and already knowing the answer, I whisper, "Kill who?"

A deep laugh echoes through the receiver that pins me to the floor.

_Click. _

He has hung up on me.

My world spins, and I'm panicked. I don't know who was on the phone, or how they knew I would be there, but I was definitely the intended recipient.

I turn around, and am about to run from the room when the wall around the door grab my attention. A huge collage of newspaper has been pinned to the wall. I walk closer to get a better look, when I realize that all of the articles look familiar.

They're mine.

Everything from the repetitive obituaries that I write, to my latest article about Batman is there. The only thing I notice that is different is that under the words "_Needed, but unwanted_." Joker has added his own word.

_Wrong._

The word seems to mock me and my entire article. It glares at me from where he has smeared it across the page, and I become angry. Didn't he tell me that the reason he took me in the first place was that he agreed with me? And now he is saying that I'm wrong? Who does he think he is?

I storm out of the room and back into the main area. I look around and get even more upset when I see all of the men still sitting around.

"Why are you even here?" I yell. "Don't you all have your own lives?"

They jerk up at my voice, but settle back down after realizing there's no danger.

"Ah, shut it." One of them says.

"Who said that?" I squint my eyes, feeling on edge. A man stands up and saunters over to me. He is at least six feet tall, and over 200 pounds.

"I did." He growls. "Got a problem with that?"

I glare up at him, seething. My hands ball up in fists, but I don't say anything. The man smiles down to me cruelly and continues, "Yeah. I didn't think so. So why don't you just take your little self back upstairs."

"No." I say. I'm not going to go up to 'my room' like some kid. I'm as much of an adult as these men, and I don't care that I'm in danger by standing my ground.

"Oh?" The man growls, "And why not?" He grabs my hair roughly, and pulls me up to his face.

"Aren't you going to do anything?" I demand. "The Joker is somewhere out there, and you're all just sitting here with your tails in between your legs like cowards!"

"Aww, does the girl _miss _the bad man? Hmm?" He taunts.

"No! But what is the point of him having you around if you're just going to sit there? What kind of henchmen are you?" I spit.

The man throws me to the ground, and walks away without a word. I pick myself up, and shout, "Fine! Do nothing! See if I care!"

I turn and walk back into the room with the telephone. I look at the papers, and see the words again.

_Where do you stand?_

I pick up the phone and dial *69. The operator repeats the last number that called the phone, and I grab a pen from the desk and write it down. I then pick the phone back up, and dial the number.

"_Yesss_?" The voice drawls quietly, sending shivers down my spine.

"They aren't going to kill him." I state flatly.

"Ohh? And what makes you think they won't?"

"Because I'm going to stop them."

He laughs again, and it takes tremendous focus to stay calm.

"Do you know where he is?" I say flatly.

"_Yesss_."

"Are you going to tell me?"

"I don't think s_oooo_."

"Tell me!" I demand.

"I can see wh_yyyy_, he likes you, girl." He hisses quietly.

"Tell me where he is."

_Click. _

I throw the phone down in frustration. How was I supposed to get to him if I didn't know where he was?

I walk away from the phone, and glare at the floor. The man on the phone is smart. He knows that even if I did know where The Joker was, it's not like I could get to him. I'm nothing special. I don't know how to do things or get places secretly or agilely.

I look up, and see a side door that I hadn't noticed before. I walk over to it, and open it, finding myself in a closet.

There are about six purple suits on one side, and hanging ties adjacent to them. So this explains why the Joker's suit never looks overly used or dirty. He has more than one.

On the opposite side of the closet, there is a single hanging garment. It is a soft jumpsuit that is purple on one side, and green on the other. It has definitely been designed and created for a female wearer, and it looks about my size.

Could he have had it made for me?

I reach out and touch the soft fabric, and can't help the smile that grows on my face.

_Wrong._

I remember the word Joker has written on my article, and I drop the sleeve in disgust. I don't even know why I wanted to find him in the first place. He hasn't done my life any good, so why should I do something good for him? I shouldn't.

I turn away from the outfit, and cross my arms.

"I'm sorry Joker. I'm not going to do this." I whisper. Trying to rationalize with myself.

Besides, he's gotten himself out of prison before right? Why should I bother trying to do anything? Oh right. He's never gone willingly. That's _my_ fault.

A harsh yell pulls me out of my thoughts, followed by a man's scream. It's a unique sound that I'm not used to hearing, and it catches me off guard. It abruptly cuts off, and I leave the closet with my head tilted in confusion.

What's going on out there?

I walk out to the doorway of the office, and poke my head out.

"Hello?" I ask, hesitantly. "Are you guys okay?"

Silence. I get a funny feeling in my stomach, and I walk quietly down the hall.

"Where are you guys?" I ask. "Don't tell me you left me here unguarded. I could escape you know." I say, trying to illicit a response.

I make it into the main room, and at first think it's empty. Then I notice the man who had grabbed me before lying face down on the ground by the table.

"Hey." I say softly. "Are you okay?" I walk over to him and nudge him with my foot.

He doesn't move, and my heart sinks. What happened to everybody else? There were at least seven other men around here when I left ten minutes ago. I look around quickly, and don't see anyone. Fear starts to overwhelm me, and I make my way towards the stairs. My hope is that I can find a door with a lock to hide behind somewhere. It's a slim chance, but I can hope right?

A sinister laugh echoes around the room, and I freeze. It is not The Joker's laugh, but it is dark and sinister in its own way. I turn around, and still don't see anyone.

"Leave me alone." I say, trying to sound tough.

"Ooh... The little girl thinks she's _brrrave_, doesn't she?" I recognize the voice. It is the man from the phone.

"I mean it." I whisper.

"Ohhh, I'm s_uuu_re you do, girl. But then how are you supposed to find him, h_mmm_?"

"Come out where I can see you!" I order. "Let's talk about this."

I've been trying to find the source of the voice, but to no avail. It seems to be coming from everywhere, and echoing in sinister whispers all around me, making it difficult to track down the origin.

He laughs again, and says, "You don't really want me to come out."

"What kind of assumption is that? If we are going to talk, let me see you." I say.

Hot breath tickles the back of my neck, and I spin around quickly only to find myself alone.

"Where are you!" I shout, making my voice echo around the room.

"_Everywhere_." He says.

He comes out from behind a large crate about ten yards away. A large cloth sack covers his face, and I can see two holes for eyes, and slits making the wearer look like he is frowning.

I recognize him immediately. As recognizable as The Joker is, the Scarecrow stands out just as much.

"Scarecrow." I breathe.

"Ahhh, yes. The girl is a smart one isn't sh_eee_?" He says, starting to walk in my direction.

I back up slowly, afraid to get too close. His mask is alone is threatening to push my control to its limits, and I need to focus if I want to try to get out of this alive.

"Why are you here?" I ask firmly.

"Oh? Don't you remembe_rrr_ our conversation on the phone? You need my help." He comes closer. He's only feet from me, and I've backed into a wall.

"N-no. I don't need any of your help." I say quietly.

"What's wrong girl? Are you afraid?" He leers above me.

He takes one of his hands out of his pockets, and brings it slowly toward my face. I see a small nozzle under his wrist, and I shout, "No!"

His other hand grabs me, and holds me against the wall. His head tilts slightly, and his outstretched hand touches my chin softly. His touch is gentle, and it makes it even more terrifying.

"No, what?" He whispers. "No you're not afraid? Or no, don't kill you?" His hand traces the line of my jaw, and down to my neck. He opens his hand briefly, and closes it gently around my throat as if he were choking me. "I'm waiting..." He continues.

"Don't kill me." I say.

He chuckles to himself darkly for a moment, and brings his hand back up to trace my cheek. "Fear is a funny thing, isn't it?" He asks. I don't respond, and he continues. "Personally, I find it... _Intoxicating_." He points to my nose, and says, "For instance, if I were to gesture my hand in a specific way right now, you would be dead in unde_rrr_ a minute. But just think of what an absolute thrill that minute would be for you and me both."

I can't begin to describe the terror in my stomach, and close my eyes tightly as a pitiful attempt of self-defense to this assault. His hand slaps across the gash on my cheek, and I cry out in pain.

"Pay attention girl! Don't do that." He growls. I open my eyes slowly, and he seems to feel a little better. "Now, I'm here for a reason. And that reason is to help you get to him. Do you understand? I'm in charge now, and you will do everything I say. When I say it."

"Mmhm." I mumble.

"Speak up."

"Yes." I say, trying to nod my head. "I get it."

"Just remembe_rrr _girl. I could kill you in a moment. Don't mess up."

"O-Okay." I say. I think I almost prefer The Joker. Sure, he has literally scarred me for life, but at least he wasn't this bad.

He leans close to me, and his mask rubs against my ear softly. "_Good girl_." He almost coos, sending goose bumps down my spine.

"Can I ask a question?" I say quietly.

"You ju_ss_t did. But ye_sss_ you may."

"Why are you trying to help me?"

"Don't worry about my reasons." He snaps quietly. "Just be grateful you have it."

I look down and say, "Alright."

He drops his hands, and I stand there awkwardly for a moment.

"So...What's the plan?" I ask.

He doesn't answer, but instead, starts twisting something on his wrist. I'm confused for a moment, and hear him mutter to himself.

"Shame I can't just kill her."

Now I'm nervous about his movements. He continues fiddling with his wrist for a moment, and with a sigh, looks back up at me. He puts his hand up and before I understand what he's doing, a puff of white smoke comes out of the nozzle and sprays directly into my face.

"No!" I choke out.

I have taken a breath of the gas, and it burns down deep into my lungs. The pain of it makes me start coughing, and I feel as if I can't breathe. After a moment, my head feels light. A tingling sensation that almost merges into pain spreads along my arms and legs, and I start shaking.

Quick flashes assault my mind.

My mother crumpled on the ground in front of me.

My Father leaving with his arm around a woman I don't know.

The Joker's face.

The image of my mother crumpled turns into The Joker onto the ground.

Batman is dragging The Joker away into the dark.

"Noo!" I scream. "Come back!" I don't know if I'm talking to my Mother, my Father, or The Joker, but the words explode out of me without my permission.

I fall to my knees, and I hear the Scarecrow laughing above me.

"I have to say girl, this is _extrrremely_ entertaining. Too bad it's not fatal."

The images are fading, and for a moment, my muscles feel drained and weak. I sway a little, trying to keep my balance when I feel a change.

Heat is coming back into my arms and legs quickly; building up raw energy. My mind brings back the images of The Joker and I become angry. It's getting hard to control my thoughts, and I am on my feet in an instant.

"Ahhh, now it's working." Scarecrow nods. "How do you like my newest concoction?"

My eyes dart around the room quickly, taking in details. My vision is clear and focused, and I see my way out. I take a step backward into the wall and use it as leverage to push myself toward him instead of away.

"It's fantastic." I say softly, grabbing him in a soft embrace. I have no emotional attachment to this man, but my mind is showing me the way to survive this ordeal, and if it means I have to act a little, I'm fine with it.

I realize that Scarecrow really is right about the feeling... It truly is intoxicating. I feel like a predator. Strong, graceful, and in charge.

"Good girl." He says again, and I seethe silently at the fact that he is treating me like some pet. He rubs my hair gently, and quick images of me punching and getting him off me flash through my mind. I ignore them though, and try to focus.

"We need to go." I lower my voice as I lean against him.

"Yes." He states simply. I don't know if he's onto my act, but there is no use giving it up.

I suddenly remember the outfit in the closet, and pull away from him.

"I have an idea." I turn and swiftly run back to the room, ignoring his protests behind me. As I said, I'm in control.

I burst into the closet quickly. I snatch the suit off its hanger and within a minute have it on. I then run upstairs, and into the bathroom with all of the paint. I'm not sure exactly what to do, but I get the general idea.

I pull the lid off the white container and smear it all over my face as a base. It's messy, but I'm in a hurry. I pull the purple lid off next, and attempt to paint the diamonds over my eyes again. They are a little lopsided, but they will do for now. Lastly, I take the green and smear it across my lips and upward along my cheeks to imitate what The Joker did before. Once that is finished, I take a step back to examine myself.

The outfit fits perfectly. It is tight fabric that covers me from my ankles to my neck. It has long sleeves that have points coming up from the shoulders slightly. The right side of the entire ensemble is green, and the entire left is a rich purple. Contrasting diamonds follow the center down to my waist, and overall, I'm impressed by the craftsmanship of it. It breathes when I move, but is strong enough to endure hardships without tearing.

I look back up to my face, and although it looks very nice with the outfit, (I have a feeling that The Joker designed the outfit after the design he painted on my face); something is missing. I'm a piece of art with no signature.

I scrutinize my reflection for a quick moment, when I notice how the makeup appears caked and blotchy over my two new scars. The gas is still in my bloodstream, giving my brain a head start, and I pick up the black paint quickly. I stick my finger inside, and quickly trace my two scars with it.

I back away again, and smile widely as the world seems to click into place for me in that infinite moment.

Perfection stares back at me, and I almost skip back downstairs I'm so happy.

I had almost forgotten the Scarecrow was still waiting for me, and he doesn't seem happy.

"You wasted my time to put on makeup? You are such a naive little _girrrl._" He hisses.

I walk straight up to him and hit him in the face. The mask softens my blow considerably, but it still helped vent some of my anger.

"Shut up." I growl. "And stop calling me that."

My threat only makes him angrier though, and he grabs my arm roughly.

"Let's just get this ove_rrr_ with. I'm sick of you already." He says.

His anger doesn't faze me however, because I'm still on the gas's high. I feel strong and unbeatable, and a stupid scarecrow isn't going to ruin my mood.

I can only hope that the gas doesn't wear off before I can get to The Joker.

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><p><strong>Ok, what did you think? :) Did you absolutely hate it? Did you like it? Even if you only have time to put a smiley face :) if you liked it, or a frowny face :( if you didn't, s review would be awesome! :D<strong>

**(It's also awesome if you want to actually write a few words, just saying.) **

**Thanks guys!**


	13. Rescue

**Okay, here is my next little chapter. :) **

**Thanks to all of my reviewers! You guys make my day! Everytime I see that I have a new review, I get a big grin on my face and look like an idiot as I smile at my computer screen. :) **

**Thanks again, linnie kinda spinnie, for beta'ing (is that a word?) this chap! **

**Oh, and if you guys want a real laugh, you should check out this video I found... Probably one of the funniest videos pertaining to TDK I've ever watched. :) just go to youtube, and copy and paste that bit onto the end. :) **

**watch?v=seBpXt8_6xs **

**Anyways, as always I sadly still don't own Dark Knight or Batman, or the Joker, blah blah blah. I own Melanie though! She's all mine! muahaha.**

* * *

><p>Scarecrow half drags me to his car, and I let him do it. It feeds my anger, but I know that he is my only chance, and if I make him too upset or angry, I'll either end up dead or alone. Preferably the latter of the two.<p>

He roughly shoves me in, and closes the door behind him. He starts the car, and we are on our way quickly.

"Where is he?" I ask, trying to keep my voice attractive without too much success.

"The Joker is currently being held at G.C.P.D. They have been trying to find out where he's keeping _youuu_. They are transferring him to Arkham tonight."

"We will never get inside Arkham." I'm nervous. Even with the gas's boost of self-confidence, I can't lie to myself.

"_You_ never could. But it is easier when you've been there _beforrre_. " He chuckles darkly. "But we are not going to Arkham. We are going to intercept the transfe_rrr_."

That plan does seem to make more sense. I wonder why I didn't think of it before. My vision blurs slightly, and I feel a little dizzy. I put my hand up to my forehead and feel slightly nauseous.

Scarecrow looks over to me and sighs. "It looks like I have mo_rrre_ to do with this batch." he lifts his arm before he finishes speaking and another puff of white gas surrounds me. I feel the burning in my lungs and try to suppress the intense coughing without success.

My eyes water, and terror begins to grow in the pit of my stomach.

_I'm all alone in my former home. My mom has been taken to Arkham, and my father won't answer my calls. I have nowhere to go, and the University has officially dropped me as a student. _

_My memory is fast-forwarded to a more recent scene. I'm running down the hall away from Bruce Wayne's penthouse. I was only there for a few days, and yet, I had felt peace there. Leaving it was hard in its own abandoning way. _

There is a difference between these memories, and the last one that was triggered by the gas. I have slight control. Yes, I am still terrified by the wave of loneliness, and the crushing guilt, but I am aware of myself in the car at the same time.

I almost patiently endure the next few moments, waiting the loneliness out, and feel the energy drain out of me. Within moments, the surge of power hits, and my eyes light up once more.

"Well, that wasn't really as _entertaining_ as the first time." Scarecrow pouts.

"Sorry to disappoint." I snap. I can't really fake the attraction thing for very long, simply because he irritates the crap out of me. That and it's really hard to act for someone wearing a mask.

It's also kind of creepy.

Gotham blurs outside my window, and my mind brings Bruce's image back into focus. It's almost like the gas has a mind of its own, and I am just a host to its demands.

Something doesn't quite sit with me. Or the gas I should say. When Bruce mentioned Joker blowing up a school, I had made the connection, but forgot about it afterwards. Now with my mind clear, I recognize the look on his face as he said it. Guilt. Inward anger, and slight _fear_.

Fear of what exactly? He was obviously angry with himself for saying something, and probably guilty because of it. But what did he have to fear?

Bruce has a secret. And he's afraid that I'm going to figure it out. Bruce Wayne is afraid of _me_. The thought makes me smile darkly. It all adds up. He disappears at night. Batman obviously is getting lots of money somewhere for all of his toys, who says it's not from a trust fund and a multi-billion dollar company?

Yes, I think I know what his secret is.

"_Focusss_!" The Scarecrow jolts me out of my thoughts. "I can't have you daydreaming or fantasizing or whatever when it is time to move."

I ball my fists, and let the comment go for now. The only thing holding my tongue is the instinct of self-preservation.

"Now." He continues, pulling to the side of the road. "The van with the Joker will pass in five minutes exactly."

"Why aren't they using a convoy?" I'm perplexed.

"It's too obvious. Everyone would know who was in it, and it would attract a lot of attention. But they don't need the _convoyyy_." He twists the word.

I don't need to ask why. The Joker would be plenty protected tonight.

"Batman." I state, hard and flat. The semi-awareness of the gas in my system wriggles with distaste.

"_Yesss_. He will be close. The little guards are no issue. It's the Bat that we will need to watch out for." Scarecrow looks out the windshield and to the sky. "How do you feel about the Bat right _noww_?" He asks curiously.

I squint my eyes, and feel the presence shift in distaste. "You read my article didn't you? Gotham doesn't want him. And neither do I." A small part of me disagrees. The part of me that was being over-ridden by the gas and had no say.

I think again of Bruce Wayne. Gotham's little billionaire. My mind clouds in anticipation. Yes, I believe that I know who is going to be watching the Joker tonight, and I'm not quite sure what I'm going to do about it yet.

I'm beginning to figure out the gas's strengths. It seems to thrive on fear. Scarecrow made it so that much is obvious. When I remembered Bruce's face for instance, I saw the fear in his eyes that I had failed to notice before. A small part of me resists and wills me to drop the issue, but I ignore it.

Tonight I'm going to have some _real_ fun.

Scarecrow reaches into a bag, and hands me a small inhaler. "Take _thisss._" He hisses. "It seems that it doesn't last as long as it should. If you get weak, take some more. But don't take two at _onccce_."

"Why?" I take the inhaler and turn it over, studying it.

"You would be overcome in hallucinations, and become comatose in moments. It's _verrry_ entertaining to watch, but I can't afford to have you die yet."

I shudder at the image. "Why are you here? Why help me?" I ask.

He reaches over and grabs my hair harshly, pulling me close to his face. "I've already told you it is none of your _concerrrn_. Do _not_ ask me again. I've already tested my patience with you." He pushes me away and I scowl. I open my mouth to say something when his arm flies up and points out the window. "There they are. Put that away, and get ready"

"What's the plan, exactly?" I ask.

"Distract them. And keep your eye out for the _Bat_."

I look down and feel a little more frustration. I'm just supposed to sit on the sidelines and get their attention? The gas swirls in rebellion. I know what I'm going to do. And it doesn't involve sitting out.

I grin silently at my new plan, and find a small pocket on my right hip. I unzip it, and put the inhaler inside, but feel something else there as well. It's a small cylinder that feels like plastic. It almost reminds me of a film container. Although I'm curious, there isn't time to open it now.

The blue G.C.P.D. van is only a block away, and Scarecrow starts the car.

"Get out." He says quickly, "And wait for my signal."

I do as he asks, and the cold air makes me shiver. As soon as I close the door, the car leaps forward directly in the path of the van.

The van crushes into the side of the car, hitting the exact place I had just been sitting. The sound of screeching metal and breaking glass is loud, but not overbearing. A moment after the collision, two officers jump out, and walk slowly toward the car with guns drawn.

I don't feel the same worry for Scarecrow as I do toward the Joker, but I do feel unease as I watch the cops walk toward the car. I don't know what to expect, so when the huge plume of white gas envelopes the car, it makes me jump.

The officers are engulfed in the cloud, and I hear them yell out in absolute terror for a moment. Then all is silent, and I turn back to the van. A third officer gets out, and fires his gun into the cloud. He empties his clip quickly, and reaches down to reload. A small canister comes flying out of the cloud, and sits at his feet. He looks panicked for a moment, but relaxes after the can does nothing. He starts to laugh in relief, and looks up.

"Is that all you got?" He asks boldly. "Come out where I can see you with your hands in the air."

He finishes reloading, and I notice the can again. It is releasing white smoke almost delicately, and the officer doesn't notice. After a few moments, he looks over his shoulder quickly. Then back in front of him.

"Where did you go?" He asks, his voice getting high because of stress. "Hello?"

He spins around once more, and starts yelling. He isn't yelling words, but you can tell he is afraid for his life. His eyes open widely, and he begins to whimper like a dog. He begins scratching himself, and screaming. "Get them off me! Get them off!" He spins in one more circle, and falls to the ground. He twitches for a few moments, and then is still.

I am unsure of how to react to the violence in front of me. The small part of me that has resisted my plans is mortified. But her fear just adds to my energy. I take a deep breath in to hone the extra, and freeze. Someone is behind me.

They haven't made the slightest sound, and yet, I can feel their presence. I spin around on my heel, and smile grimly in anticipation. It's Batman.

"Hello, _Batman_." I say sweetly. "What brings you here?"

"_Melanie_? Is that you?" He seems surprised.

"Nope. I don't know a _Melanie_." I mock his voice slightly. "I'm Lane."

He shakes his head. "Melanie, listen. It is important that you come with me. I can help you." His voice is low and gravelly, and really distracting.

"Why are you doing that with your voice?" I ask, tilting my head.

"I don't know what you mean." He says.

"Oh, _Bruce_. It's alright! You don't have to hide from me!" I smile sweetly again. "Thanks again for helping me feel better. I _really_ appreciate it." Once again the repressed part of me cringes in shame, while the rest of me picks up on the range of emotions going through his eyes. It's hard to read his face while it is covered by the mask, but as my mother used to say, the eyes are windows to the soul.

He just stares at me in shock, and after a moment, he manages to plead, "Melanie.."

"I already told you!" I snap. "My name is _Lane_!" I'm sick of men calling me different names! Why couldn't they just _listen_ to me?

I turn around and drop in a crouch, evading his attempted grab. I fly back up and sprint to the middle of the street where Scarecrow has successfully gassed the last guard. "Hey!" I shout as a warning. He looks up and passes me on his way to Batman. I hear them collide and begin to fight, but it is time to focus. I need to find the Joker.

I crawl up, into the van, and make my way into the back. The Joker is sitting casually on a bench as if he went through this every day, and whistling a random tune. His arms are relaxed behind his head, and I am shocked.

"What happened to your handcuffs?" I ask.

He swivels his head and looks at me, and for a moment, his eyes are blank. He then seems to recognize me, and I huge grin spreads across his face. His eyes light up in a mischievous spark of interest, and it crinkles his smeared and faded paint.

"Ooh, look at you! What didja, uh, _dress up_ for, Lane?"

If he is attempting to make me feel self-conscience, it is not going to work. I am here for a reason.

"I asked, what happened to your _handcuffs?_" I growl.

"_Ooh_. Someone is a little feisty now isn't she?" He gets up and walks toward me slowly. I glare up at him, and he smiles back down at me. "Yes, I think that I like your, uh, _improv-vah-ments_."

"Are you going to answer my question or not?" I narrow my eyes.

He brings his hand up, and starts to stroke my chin gently. I smack his hand away, and he grabs both of my arms harshly. "Nah, uh, uh, Lane." He scolds me. "I think your forgetting who really is uh, in _charge_, here." He pulls me even closer, and I smell the stale scent of cigarettes mixed with recycled air.

"You aren't" I snap. "Do you need reminding about who exactly is doing the rescuing here?"

"Who says I needed rescuing?" He says lightly. "As for your other little question, after you go to Arkham a few times, you figure out a few things. Like being able to get out of your handcuffs. It's really rather, uh, _simple_." He grins.

"Oh." He still has my hands restrained, and I try to pull away.

"And, uh, where _exactly_ are you-uh, _going_? Hmm?"

I don't need to reply because as soon as he asks the question, a loud _thud!_ smacks against the side of the van.

"Oh," He swings his head to look. "We are kinda in the middle of uh, _fight_, now aren't we?"

In the next second, he pushes me away, probably expecting me to fall. But my reflexes are sharp, and I land lightly on my feet. This seems to catch him off guard for a moment, and he purses his lips at me, as if noticing me for the first time.

After a moment, he makes a satisfied sound in the back of his throat, and offers me his hand. I smack it away, and turn to leave when he grabs me from behind. He spins me around quickly, and positions himself in front of me as I reach out, trying not to fall over. Without realizing, I grab his shoulders to steady myself, and with a small gasp, I let go quickly. I glare up at him, and he smiles down and grabs my shoulders harshly.

"You know what I just noticed, Lane?" He sounds smug.

"What?" I narrow my eyes.

"I did get you some scars after all didn't I?" He laughs. "I believe this situation calls for an, _I told you so!"_ He throws his head back in laughter.

Without thinking, I punch him in the gut, and he swings his head back down to look at me. I slap him across the face, and when he turns back, his emotions pass so quickly, it is difficult even with the gas to keep up.

Shock. Anger. Disbelief. Humor. Calculating. More Anger.

Nothing happens for a moment, and I am glad to realize he doesn't have any knives.

After a moment however, a grin grows on his face. He is laughing again, and he pulls me inches away from his face. I am close enough to smell his breath, which isn't the greatest because he has been locked up for a few days, and even smell the strange scent of the paint on his face. His eyes bore into mine sparking with interest and calculations.

"What am I going to do with you?" He muses.

I am surprised at the strength of his hold. For a rather lanky looking guy, he has definitely built up some upper body strength.

"Let me down so we can get out of here?" I say, rather impatiently. He thinks for a moment, and I know that it wasn't what he was talking about, but it serves as a valid answer for now.

He lets me go, and as soon as my feet touch the ground, I know something is wrong. I stumble a bit, and catch myself, and it catches the Joker's attention.

"Now, what seems to be the-uh, _problem_, now Lane?" He looks at me with confusion.

"Nothing." I mumble. The world starts spinning, and I feel light-headed. I reach into my pocket, and pull out the inhaler that Scarecrow had given to me.

I spray a puff into the air in front of me, and breathe in, deeply. The almost familiar burn in my lungs begins, and I don't cough. I close my eyes, and wait for the images.

This time, instead of memories, I am assaulted by still images.

_The Scarecrow leering above me. _

_Batman grabbing my arm._

_My mother's beaten form._

They fade, and I almost feel happy that I was able to stay silent. I wait out the exhaustion, and within moments, feel strong.

I stand up and grin.

"Let's do this." I move to put the inhaler away, when the Joker quickly snatches it away from me.

"So this, is what's been causing you to be so, _dramatic_?" He spins it around.

I grab it back quickly, and slip it into my pocket. "That's my business."

He narrows his eyes at my boldness. "Now, Lane. While we are on the subject. I need the other container in your pocket."

"Why?"

"Because it's _mine_. Now hand it over, or I'll be forced to, uh_, take it."_

I reach into my pocket, and pull out the plastic container. I am happy to see that my earlier guess was correct, and I am indeed holding a film canister. I put it in his outstretched hand, and he laughs in anticipation.

"Thank you, Lane. You've exceeded all of my, uh, _expectations_."

"So what's in it?"

"Oh, nothing you need to worry yourself with." He puts it in his jacket pocket.

"_What_? Why not? I deserve to know! I carried it all this way to you!"

My anger only seems to make him happier, however, and fighting with him seems useless.

"Let's get out of here." I turn away. "Scarecrow needs our help."

"There's more truth to that than you know." He cackles.

I make my way out of the van, and Batman and Scarecrow are standing about ten yards apart, waiting for someone to make the next move. I wonder why Scarecrow didn't just gas Batman, but don't focus too long on it. I notice that Scarecrow is a little worse for wear, and is breathing heavily.

Batman notices the Joker and me, and extends his hand in my direction. I see his fingers quivering, and can hear his shaky breaths. So Scarecrow did gas him, but he is still fighting it.

"Come on, _Batman_!" I say loudly, putting the emphasis on his alias. "Just relax and enjoy it! It's fun!"

"Ooh, very nice touch, Lane." The Joker says behind me.

Batman hunches over, and I am curious to what he is seeing. I wonder what Bruce Wayne has to _fear_.

"Yo! Scarecrow! Heads up!" The Joker yells.

Scarecrow turns his head in our direction, and the Joker tosses him the film container lightly. He catches it, and pops off the lid quickly, pouring the small contents into his hand. He rips off his mask, and I am confused.

At first, all I notice are his basic features. He's just a man, a little older than myself, with brown hair and striking blue eyes. He's definitely attractive, and I wonder why he is so intent on the contents of the container.

After a moment of studying him, I notice the details about him. His face is covered in a ghoulish red rash, and his lips are dry and cracked. He is close enough for me to see the red around his eyes, and the parts of his face that aren't covered in the rash are unusually pale and chalky.

He lifts his hand to his mouth eagerly, and swallows the contents of his hand. It must be medication for his condition. I wonder if it can be healed with such a little object.

Batman rights himself, and crouches low. He is outnumbered severely, and he must know it. I am not much of a threat, but he is going to try to leave with me at least, so I need to stay as far away as possible. The Joker, and Scarecrow are a strong team against him, and I wonder if he will just give up and go home.

I'm sure Alfred will enjoy hearing I'm okay. The thought puts a grin on my face. I wonder what he will think of my new attitude.

The repressed part of me shudders, and I give her a mental shove. When I'm not on this gas, I'm really a wimp aren't I? I don't know how people can stand me.

"You might as well give it up now, Batsy!" Joker laughs quietly. "You can't, uh, _win_. But, hey, I'm feeling generous, and you can leave now if you want with your dignity intact. Well, halfway. You already got hit with Scarecrow's little mixture. Hee hee."

"I will never give up to garbage like you." Batman growls fiercely, repressing shudders.

"Batman." I say. I was thinking about calling him Bruce, but I really don't want anyone to ruin my fun by knowing his identity. I think it proves my worth, knowing that I figured it out in minutes, when Gotham's most wanted has been at it for _months_. "You don't want to do this." I continue. "There is nothing to stop. We haven't committed any crime! Sure, Joker has 'escaped', if that's what you want to call it, but he does it all the time! It's not really that big of a deal."

"Melanie, you need to come with me. I can help you." His voice is shaking, and I wonder how he is keeping his self-control. I frown in concern, not liking the fact that this man was so unnecessarily kind to me, is now being forced to live his worst fears. Whether I feel unbeatable or not, I can't ignore his kindness toward me.

I shake my head to clear it a bit. I need to focus.

Focus. Focus. Focus. Focus.

I need to get out of here with the Joker.

How?

Scarecrow.

I smile again, and take a step forward.

"Lane! What are you, uh, _doing_?" The Joker is confused, and a little concerned.

I ignore him, and walk straight up to Scarecrow, who has put his mask back on, and seems to be breathing better. I pull my fist back hard, and hit him with as much force in the gut. He doubles over slightly, and I hear his breath _whoosh!_ out of him in surprise.

"_Girrrl,_" He turns his head up in my direction, and I feel like I'm a kid again. But I need to focus if this is going to work. I watch for his attack, and when his arm springs up, I'm ready, and in a crouch underneath it. I kick his shin hard, and jump to the left as he swings at me. His fingers catch my hair though, and he yanks me back to his face.

Well, there goes my plan.

His right arm comes up with the nozzle, and I take a quick gasp in, wondering if I can hold my breath long enough for the gas to fade. But, before his fist reaches my faces level, Batman has grabbed it, and jerked it away with a sickening _pop_! Scarecrow gasps in pain, and turns his attention to the Bat. He attempts to raise his arm back up, when Batman rips the nozzle off his wrist, and tosses it over his shoulder.

I am grabbed from behind by the Joker, and I turn to him quickly.

"Nice plan." He says quickly, with an approving nod, and we turn and sprint away.

We turn around the nearest corner, and pause. I'm not exactly sure where to go, but I follow his lead as he pulls me forward a moment later.

We run a few blocks, and he surprises me by pulling me into a shabby apartment complex. He hurries me down a hall, and up two flights of stairs where we reach an apartment. He takes his shoe off, and reaches inside, pulling out a small key.

"Home sweet home." He grins, putting the key inside, and turning the lock.

He opens the door, and I am in a bit of shock. Could this be the Joker's actual apartment?

"It's not much, but it will hold for one night." He has gone inside already, and is looking in the refrigerator.

I take a step inside, and notice that it is predominately empty. There isn't really any furniture, and there is a thin layer of dust on the floors and windowsills. I'm beginning to doubt that he actually lives here, but that he just uses it as a hideout when needed.

"No food." He says, closing the fridge. "Oh well. It's only one night."

I walk in further, and realize that I _am_ tired. My muscles are still strong from the gas, but I still can feel my body's instinct for sleep.

My heart is pounding, and my eyes dart around quickly. I'm not ready to be still, and my mind is overworking. The Joker looks at me, confused for a moment, and then walks over to me. He tilts his head, and looks at me confused again.

"Whatsa matter, Lane?"

"Nothing." I say, wiggling my fingers, simply because it's something that I can do.

"Why are you so uh, _worked up_?"

"I'm not." I suddenly get the urge to go jogging. Maybe that would help. "Can we go for a run, or something?" I ask.

"No." He says, a little surprised. "You sure have a lot of energy, don'tcha?"

"I guess." This conversation is boring. I want to go _do_ something.

He laughs and then takes my shoulders, making me stay still for a moment. His eyes are calculating, and his grin is mischievous, making me suspicious. He stays like that for a moment, when his lips crush against mine. He pulls me against him, and I am amazed at how warm his body is through his suit.

The contact makes me angry though, and I try and shove him off.

"Get offa-" He cuts off my words by taking advantage of my open mouth, and shoving his tongue inside. My heart starts racing, and time seems to stop for a moment. My senses are overloaded and pulled in a million different directions as the Joker's body presses against mine. My mind tries to keep track of everything, but it is difficult. One of his hands cups my face, and the other is on my lower back, pulling me closer. The leather of his glove brushes my skin there, and almost sends me through the roof. His tongue moves eagerly around the inside of my mouth, and when I don't respond, he bites my lower lip quickly.

I suck in a quick breath, and stomp on his foot. He pulls away for a moment, and licks his lips quickly. He squints his eyes slightly, and tilts his head to the side, waiting.

Suddenly, I feel dizzy, and within a moment, the ground isn't underneath my feet anymore. The room swirls, and as the last of the gas leaves my system, exhaustion takes over my body. Blackness clouds over my vision, and I think I hear him chuckle.

Jerk.

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><p><strong>Alrightly then, what did you think? Like it? Hate it? Let me know! :D :D :D Pleeeease?<strong>


	14. Forgotten

**Alright, well sorry for the late update... I've had some serious writer's block, and just felt uninspired for this one, so sorry if it isn't my best. :) We will get to more exciting things in the next one, promise. :) **

**So, while I have been on this updating break maby things have happened, in case you are wondering. A few examples being my dad, brother, and I burying a lit street flare underground trying to get rid of a groundhog, and me getting to actually hold an alligater! :D But, enough about me, I know you are anxious to read so I will let you get to it.**

**Thanks Linnie kinda Spinnie, and once again, I sadly do not own anything related to Batman, but I do own Melanie! :)**

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><p>Waking up is disorienting. I'm not sure where I am, but I'm lying on a hard mattress with a thin blanket over me. I don't know how I got here, and I close my eyes to try and remember better.<p>

I remember being angry at people, and trying to figure something out. I was arguing with one of the Joker's men about... _Something._ That's where it gets foggy.

I turn over in the bed, and I'm not alone. There is somebody in this bed with me! My eyes go wide with panic, and I notice the familiar green tinted blonde hair of the Joker. Wait? How did he get back? And what are we doing in a bed together?

I get up slowly, and put my hands over my face. I remember a man... Was he wearing a mask? The Scarecrow? Why was he there?

I look down, and find myself in a purple and green jumpsuit. Seeing it jolts my memory and I remember talking with Scarecrow and finding this outfit. Okay, that's a start. But when I found it, I certainly wasn't planning on _wearing_ it!

I look at the Joker again. He is fully dressed except for his purple overcoat and his shoes, which are on the floor next to the bed. His paint is smeared and missing in places on his face. I wonder slightly how long it has been since he has been able to sleep, and feel a small pang of sympathy for him. Sure, he was Gotham's most wanted criminal, but he is still human.

I feel something on my hip, and look down. A small bulge explains the feeling, and I reach my hand into a pocket. I pull out the small plastic...inhaler? I don't have asthma. What was I doing carrying this?

I shake my head, and sit on the edge of the bed. Maybe the Joker will be able to fill in some of my memory. I see a small clock on a nightstand next to his side of the bed. 10:30. It doesn't say A.M or P.M, so that doesn't help me a whole lot. But at least I have a number. There aren't any windows in the room, and the only light is coming from the outside hall light. I decide that if I'm awake, he can wake up too.

"Hey." I shove his leg. "Get up."

He doesn't move, and I shove him harder.

"Wake up!" I say a little louder.

No response.

"Joker!" I feel a pang of something very close to concern. I get off the bed, and walk over to his side. His eyes are closed, and his face is totally relaxed. I shove his shoulder, and he still doesn't respond.

I can't tell if he is breathing. My hands start shaking slightly as I put one forward to feel his pulse. No sooner does my finger touch his neck, when his hand flies up and grabs my outstretched arm.

"Boo!" He yells.

"Argg-" I yell, jumping back.

This sends him into a fit of hysterical laughter, and he grabs his sides as he hoots. I glare down at him, and he only laughs harder.

"Ah, calm down Lane, it was just a, uh_, joke_." He chuckles more, and sits up, alert and awake as if he were never really asleep.

"Yeah, well it wasn't very funny." I say sourly.

"Wow. You weren't this huffy last night. I think I almost prefer you on Scarecrow's gas." He says.

"What are you talking about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." He says, tilting his head. "And I'm serious. Maybe you should take some of it this morning." His eyes light up.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Seriously."

He purses his lips, and stands up quickly. He strides over to me in three steps, and takes my shoulders. He leans down until we are eye to eye. His brown eyes probe mine deeply, and I have no idea what he's looking for.

His makeup is extremely faded and smeared, and the sight of him this close to me tugs at my memory. I feel like this has happened before.

"You really don't remember do you?" He smiles. "_That_, is hilarious!" He busts up laughing again, and grabs his sides.

"Shut up!" I ball my fists. "Just tell me what I'm forgetting!"

"I can't do both, Lane. I either shut up, or I talk, which-uh, one do you wan_t_?"

"Tell me what happened." I say darkly. I'm not sure where my attitude is coming from. From the moment I woke up, I have felt a sort of unresolved anger, and I hope that when the Joker tells me what happened, I can figure out why.

"Hmm." He touches his chin, and pretends to think about it. "Only if you say _puh-leeease_." He sings.

"Please." My tone is flat.

"Well, that wasn't very uh_, convincing_, but I'll tell ya anyway." He swings his arms up dramatically, "Once upon a time!"

"Not funny." I interrupt.

He drops his hands and lifts his eyebrows. "Fine. We'll do it the _boring _way." he sighs dramatically, and sits back on the bed. "I'll do ya a favor and just start at the beginning. Ahem... In the beginning there was nothing." He says in a flat ominous tone.

"_Dude_!" I complain. "What's it going to take for you to just be _serious_!"

"What's it going to take for you to stop interrupting my story?"

"I- You-... Never mind then! I'll just figure it out by myself!" I storm out of the room, and hear his wild cackle behind me.

What is his problem? All I want to do is figure out what happened, and he's acted like a five-year-old since I woke him up. I don't even know why I was so concerned about finding him in the first place.

Wait. I remember why I was arguing with that guy. I was trying to get him to do something to find the Joker. And I talked to Scarecrow on the phone. And then Scarecrow came and...killed them? That's sad.

And then I was afraid. No, I was terrified. Scarecrow had me backed into a corner. I can see it in my head. And he sprayed me... with the gas!

I pull out the inhaler again, and look at it. I had this in my system last night, and that's why I don't remember! I smile as I make the connection. Now all I have to do is fill in the blanks. Awesome.

I hear the Joker get off the bed, and I frown. He isn't going to help me figure it out. He thinks it's a game. I ignore him, and head toward the front door.

I grab the doorknob and am about to turn it when a blade _twacks!_ into the wood past my head.

"Where ya _headed_, Lane?" The Joker isn't playing around this time.

"Out." I say without turning.

Another blade is thrown and hits the wood on the other side of my head.

"Hmm." He pauses. "I don't know if I really want-uh to let you go _yet_, Lane. We still have work to do." His voice is low.

I turn to glare at him, and he is playing with the edge of a third knife casually.

"What happened to your playful attitude?" I cross my arms.

"What happened to yours?"

"Are you referring to last night, because I already told you I didn't remember." _Most of it_. I add in my head.

He chews on one of his scars, thoughtful. "Right. Well did you want me to tell you about it, or do you want me to-uh, _show_ you?" He chuckles.

"Show me?" I ask, confused. How could he show me? Was he going to act it out?

"Ooh, okay." He smooths his hair back, and walks toward me.

"Wait! I was asking a question." I said. "Not answering yours!"

"Fine." He laughs quietly. "Last night I was being transferred from the G.C.P.D. to Arkham. You teamed up with Scarecrow, and he helped you bust-_uh_, me out. The end."

"Wait, what? That's all you're going to tell me?"

"Yu_p_." He pops the 'p' and smiles.

"Then I'm out of here." I turn and grab the knob again, but remember the third knife and freeze. He wouldn't actually throw it _at_ me, would he?

He surprises me by taking my shoulders and spinning me around. I hadn't heard him walk up behind me and I gasp quietly at the movement. The room spins by, and I get the sense of de ja vu again. He catches my shoulders as I face him and smiles down at me.

There is something so familiar about the closeness of our bodies. Warmth radiates through his suit, and his breath brushes past my face.

Oh!

"You _kissed_ me!" I yell as I push him off. "You actually..." My eyes are wide, and my words fade.

"Well, Lane, you were practically hyperventilating." He laughs. "You needed a little uh, _mouth-to-mouth resuscitation_."

"But you... I... No! Why would you do that?" My breathing is rapid.

"Uh, Lane. I already told you. Maybe you should pay closer attention." He continues to laugh quietly.

I cover my eyes in disgust. I don't even know _what_ to think anymore.

"Calm down, Lane. It's not that big of a deal. You know, I think you even enjoyed it a little."

Ugg. I am not going to think about it anymore. There isn't anything I can do about the past, and I still need details about last night.

"Why was I with Scarecrow?" I keep my eyes closed, and try to even out my breathing.

"He owed me a favor." He says casually.

"So you planned all of this?" Irritation creeps into my tone, and I try to fight it.

"Oh, yes. I'm nothing if not thorough." He laughs. "And can I just say Lane, that you really are pulling together nicely."

My eyes flash open, and I see him smiling darkly. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, I can't really tell you uh, _everything_, because it would _ruin_ the surprise." He raises his hands up to try and look innocent. "But let's just say that it's a real treat seeing you now versus when we uh, _met_."

"You mean when you chased me out of my apartment, and abducted me?" I roll my eyes.

"Ha ha!" He laughs loudly. "Now there is the sarcastic little Lane from last night! I _knew_ she was down there somewhere."

I sigh, and don't know what to say. I'm tired of fighting with him, and frustrated at my memory lapse.

My stomach growls and I suddenly realize how hungry I am. Being abducted sure messes with your eating habits.

I ignore the Joker as I walk past him toward the fridge. I open it, and am disappointed when I find it empty. Great. I shut the door, and turn around, looking at the Joker expectantly.

"What are we going to do about food?"

"Oh, we aren't staying-uh, here. We can get _food_, and uh, anything else on our way." He says.

"I thought I couldn't leave?"

"Well not by yourself Lane! _We_ are definitely leaving. We have _lots_ to do ya know!" He grins darkly. He then walks over to the door, opening it dramatically. "_Ladies_, first."

I pass him with a sigh, and he shuts the door, and is beside me quickly. I have to quicken my pace to stay beside him, and we are soon out of the building.

"So where are we going?" I ask as we duck into an alley and stop.

"Well, today we need to get everything out of our little abode, and _move_ it to a safer location."

"Why move it?"

"Because Scarecrow knows where we have been staying, and he got taken by the Bat. If he squeals, then we are _all_ caught, and that is just counter-productive." He acts as if he is explaining it to a child, and my chest tightens with frustration.

I realize that I have never really been an angry person per se. Sure, I've gotten frustrated at things, and been upset before, but I am not one to hold grudges. So the fact that I have been getting angrier and angrier this morning kind of frightens me.

Oh. That's right. It is probably left over from Scarecrow's gas last night. I hope that it fades quickly. I don't really like the feeling of lingering frustration and anger.

"That's true." I keep my voice even enough, and with a few breathes, I relax a little.

Maybe I should take an anger management course if this doesn't stop. Well, if the Joker ever lets me leave, and I somehow get my life back.

"Come on." He pulls me out of my thoughts and takes my hand, pulling me down the alley.

"Wouldn't a taxi be faster?"

He laughs and says, " Now Lane, who in their right mind would stop for two dirty clowns in Gotham? Hmm?"

"Oh, right." I look down at myself, and remember that I still have paint on my face.

"Besides," He continues. "We are better off in here for two reasons. One: It's daylight, so we don't need to watch for the Bat, and Two: No one we might see in here is a threat; no police, no _screaming_ citizens, nothing. Just a couple of crack heads and hobos." He laughs.

We walk in silence for a while, and time passes quickly. I'm not sure how he learned the alleys so well, but he leads without hesitation, and I have to say that it is pretty impressive.

We stop at an opening, and I know we are close because there isn't anyone on the sidewalks. I see the almost familiar warehouse, and suddenly remember what Scarecrow did.

"Wait." I grab the Joker's shoulder. "Last night... Scarecrow sort of...Well." I look down.

He turns and smiles at my hand on his shoulder. "Oh let me guess?" He says casually. "He killed all my _goons." _

"Yeah." I say quietly. Even though I didn't really care much for them, and they never really liked me, I still feel guily liked me, I still feel badty about their deaths.

He surprises me by laughing, and I look at him blankly for an explanation. He looks at me, and is thrown into another fit of giggles, and after a few moments, he rolls his eyes with a smirk. "Well, what were you expecting him to do?" He asks, grinning widely. "It's not that big of a, uh, _deal_ really."

"What? How could you say that?" I am almost angry.

"Lane." He says my name like a tired parent, " I have to restock my entire group about once a month _anyway_. He just saved me the trouble." He laughs again, and I am disgusted.

"So what's my time limit?" I snap.

He squints his eyes at me and simply states, "We'll see."

"_We'll See_?" I repeat. My voice is getting louder. "You take me from my home and my life, and turn me into a... _criminal,_ and I still have some sort of, psychotic _time limit_? You're insane!" I turn away from him.

A knife presses into my exposed throat, and cuts sharply into my skin. My heart takes off, and my fists clench with the adrenaline rush.

"Poor Lane." His voice is half husky, and half sarcastic in my ear. "What a _tough_ life she is trying to live. She needs so much help, but she turns it all away. Why, Lane? Why are you never happy with what you have? Hmm?"

My blood boils and the anger feels like it is going to suffocate me if it doesn't get released. Strangely, the knife doesn't hurt me. It only gives me energy and awareness that would be almost enjoyable if I weren't so upset.

"_I'm waiting for an answer_, Lane." His voice has gone cold.

I take a deep breathe, and focus on the task of not screaming. There is no way that he will get me to talk about my feelings. Even if he _is_ threatening me with a blade, I'm not going to give him any more leverage than he already has.

"Too bad." I snap.

The blade disappears, and he is once again laughing hysterically behind me. His mood swings are almost predictable now, and it doesn't faze me. I touch my neck and feel the slickness of my blood. It isn't deep, and I'm not worried.

While he is busy chortling, I pull the inhaler out of my pocket. If he is going to threaten me, than I need to be alert. I am about to take a puff when I hesitate. The memory loss isn't the greatest side-effect ever, and I don't want to forget something important. I still haven't gotten the entire story from last night, and it is a little soon to do it again. Plus, I've never been a huge supporter of drugs of any kind, and I'm not quite sure if this qualifies as one. I dimly remember second grade and the big D.A.R.E. team coming and telling us how bad drugs are.

I slip it back inside my pocket ruefully, and sigh.

"I thought we were on a time limit?" I say.

"Right." He looks at me, and smiles. "You are just full of surprises lately, Lane. I think I, uh_, like_ it."

I turn, and we walk across the street into the warehouse. It doesn't smell great, and I feel nauseated when I realize that the Joker's men are still lying everywhere. I try to suppress my gag reflex, and continue to walk without looking. I don't want to see their bodies. I almost want to close my eyes, but then I would have to stay still, and I'm sure the Joker would find some sort of twisted humor in my actions.

With a sigh, I just grit my teeth and bear it, trying to focus on exactly why we are here. He said it was to move his belongings to a new location, and I try to guess at what those possessions might be. Some knives maybe? It strikes me how little I really know about this man. He's a villain. He wears clown makeup and calls himself the Joker. He prefers knives to any other weapon, but will use others if he has too. He finds humor in just about _everything_.

Every one of these facts has two things in common. One: everybody knows these things. He only let's people see what he wants to see. And two: none of these facts have any depth.

We are at the base of the stairs when he turns around and comes back to me, taking off his orange tie. He smiles slightly, and I take a step back, confused. He laughs softly, and says,

"Don't uh, _freak_ out, Lane, but I need a favor." He tries to look sheepish.

"What?" I am suspicious, and take another step back as he plays with his tie.

Instead of answering me, he reaches out and grabs my collar. He jerks me forward, and my stomach drops in fear. I realize just how much I really hate his mood swings. His breath is hot on my face, and he smiles innocently for a moment.

"Here we go." He says with a smile. He yanks me in front of him by the hair, and I gasp in pain. He puts the tie around my neck constricting my airway in the smallest way, causing my eyes to go wide with near panic. I stay silent though, and after a moment that lasts an eternity, he chuckles softly, and pulls it away. He raises it up to my eyes, and wraps it around my head, tying it securely behind it. "Sorry, Lane, but even I need a secret or two."

"You could have just asked me to close my eyes." I say sourly. I decide not to tell him that I can still see the floor where the tie doesn't quite cover my eyes, and consider just ripping the whole thing off. I leave it on though, because I remember that he still has a knife, and I don't feel like fighting right now.

"You always want to do things the _hard_ way, don'tcha Lane?" He _tsks_ in the back of his throat, and I roll my eyes. He is wearing on my patience, and I am happy to see that I am starting to gain a control on my temper.

"Yep." I say, and am satisfied to hear his footsteps stop in surprise. I can only imagine the look on his face. The picture puts a smirk on my face.

"Mmm?" I hear him take a step closer to me and his laugh almost startles me. It doesn't surprise me that he is laughing, because what else did I expect him to do? He's the _Joker_ for crying out loud. What surprised me was the sound of it. It was a quiet, happy cackle that had a twist of something rather close to anger.

His fingers trace my lips softly, and chills spread down my back. "Have I mentioned, that I _really _like your new attitude?" His voice almost sounds urgent.

Instead of answering, I nod my head softly, and he slaps my right cheek twice sharply. "Good then." He says, all humor gone. Oh boy, another mood swing. I hear him walk away again, and I rub my cheek. I'm not quite sure what to feel right now, so I settle on confused.

I'm not sure why he even bothered to bring me along if I was just going to sit here blind. I shift my weight, and sigh quietly. I can hear footsteps upstairs, followed by a loud bang. Something is dragged across the floor, and I wonder how exactly he plans on getting this object to a new hidey-hole. If he expects me to try and carry it with him, he has got another thing coming, because there is no way that I am helping him with a stupid blindfold on my face. The movement stops above me, and after a few moments of silence, I hear him coming down the hallway at the top of the stairs. He doesn't seem to be out of breath, or anything, so I wonder if he has brought the mysterious object with him.

I am tempted to try and peak, but the thought of him with a knife stops me. If there is anything I'm beginning to learn with the Joker, it is the gift of patience.

He clomps down the stairs, laughing gleefully to himself, and I am mystified at his new attitude.

"_At-at-a_!" He says in a reprimanding tone, and I wonder what I am doing wrong. Surely he can't be upset that I am standing here right? I have a stinking blindfold on! I'm not going to follow him all around. He laughs again, and I feel stupid.

"What?" I say, irritated.

His footsteps stop in surprise, almost like he forgot I was here, and then continue. Something scoots a chair close by, and I hear him come back to my side.

"Now, Lane." He says sweetly. "This next part is going to be-uh, _tricky_. So I need you to be a good little girl, and keep that blindfold on, _mmmkay_?"

Good little girl? Those three words send a torrent of blood-boiling anger down my spine in a flash, and my hands ball into fists. Another memory from last night surfaces, and I remember Scarecrow calling me that like an insult again and again. I nod my head stiffly, determined not to show the Joker the anger beneath my skin. I refuse to let him have that leverage, and am glad that he didn't notice my hands. I let them relax quickly, and push the anger away. I will save it for a time where I can effectively use the edge.

He grabs my wrist, and drags me across the room. We pause for a moment, and I hear something scoot a chair again. The Joke's body moves as if he were pulling something with his other hand, and then we are continuing again at a brisk pace.

I feel cool air blow across my face, and know that we are outside. The sliver of sidewalk that I can see gives me no clues, and I don't even see the point of me wearing the blindfold.

"Can I take this off now?"

"Of course not, Lane! I told you I needed some secrets too, didn't I?" He tugs something with his other hand, and I answer with a simple,

"Yeah."

He must want this new location to be a secret, even from me. Why, does he think that I would really be able to escape him? We know how well that doesn't work.

He drags me anther few blocks, and around some corners, and after about ten minutes, he stops. I hear the jingle of a key, and a door groan open, and we enter a new building. The air is stale, and smells like rats and mold, and I wrinkle my nose in distaste.

"Now, stay here for a minute, Lane. Don't peek." He laughs, and lets go of my hand. I stand there, blind, while he walks away from me, and that's when I hear it. The room has a slight echo to it, and amplifies all of the sounds. I hear two sets of feet walking away from me.

The Joker has somebody else with him.

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><p><strong>So, once again, things will get better in the next one, and please feel free to let me know what you all think! :) Reviews are an author's best friend. :)<strong>

***Side note: D.A.R.E. is a program that comes to all of the elementary schools where I live, and it stands for Drug Abuse Resistance Education. Just say no and all that. :) Peace!**


	15. Challenged

**Okay, readers, here is the next little update! **

**Hope you all enjoy! :D**

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Dark Knight or anything pertaining to Batman. Or McDonald's. But I own Melanie/Lane! :D**

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><p>The echoing footsteps are impossible to deny. I can't begin to guess who is with him, and my mind reels with confusion. I contemplate leaving, or at least peeking under the blindfold, but resist out of fear.<p>

Could it be Scarecrow? Or Maroni? Some other villain that stalks the streets of Gotham?

I remember the unique way the Joker tugged as we came here. Almost as if, he was _pulling _someone.

Could he have another hostage?

That seems possible. But who could it be? Why would he have this person?

I hear a door shut down the hallway, and the Joker's returning footsteps. He is chuckling gleefully to himself, and I fight the urge to demand to know who was with him, and why he went to such lengths to hide them from me.

A small part of me wonders if that person had to be blindfolded as well.

I tug the tie off of my face, and find him standing in front of me. If he already wasn't so eccentric and weird, it would be creepy.

His eyes are filled with mischief, as if he is waiting for me to ask a question. I get the feeling that he _wants_ me to ask about the other person, but out of immature spite, I've changed my mind. After a moment, he tilts his head slightly, and I get the creeper vibe again. I don't know why he isn't saying anything, and it really _is_ weird.

"What?" I say, a little irritated by his stare.

"Ooh, oh, nothin'." He smiles.

"Here." I throw his tie in his face and turn around, expecting his blade to find my throat again.

He just laughs for a few moments, and I scowl.

"Oh, uh, _Lane_?" He says lightly.

"What?"

"I need a-uh, _favor_." He smiles, and I repress a shudder. "I need you to uh, _stay_ here, for a bit and watch out for me."

"Where are _you_ going? I thought it wasn't safe?"

"It's not." He says simply. "But who do you think would fare better against _Bat_man? Me, or you?" He looks at me as if I am a child, and I feel flickers of anger brush down my spine.

"I believe I held my own pretty well the other night." I say. "I may not be as good as you, but I'm not defenseless."

"Ah, Thanks for the-uh, _compliment,_ Lane." He smiles and takes a step closer. "I didn't realize just how much you _thought_ about me." He is standing above me, and I can feel the warmth radiating off his body. My mind doesn't know whether to feel angry or intrigued, and I look down for a second.

The knife is at my throat before my eyes see the floor, and his hand grabs my hair and pulls it back harshly so that I am looking back up at him. I gasp in a mix of surprise and pain, and glare up to his smiling face. I push his against his chest with both hands, and before I know it, he pushes me onto the floor in front of him.

"Let's just test those _skills_ of yours, Lane." He seems to be having fun, and it makes me even more angry. I push myself off the floor and he roughly shoves me down again. His laugh echoes off the walls, and reminds me of the fear I used to feel towards him.

I start to get up, when he kicks me in the stomach roughly, rolling me over onto my back. My stomach clenches in pain as I suck in a gasp of air, and I see him crouch above me. He smiles down, as if proving a point and says,

"See? Told ya, Lane. And he wouldn't go _easy_ on ya, like I am."

Indignation fills my stomach, and I sit up, hunching my shoulders in mock defeat.

"You're right." I say sadly.

"Well, _duh_, Lane." He comes up behind me, and I lunge to try and hit his leg. Before I even get close to making contact however, I am on the ground again, scowling at the ceiling.

"Give up yet?" He says smugly. "Or do you want me to get out my _knives_?" He leers above me, smiling, and I cross my arms.

"Fine." I say. "Whatever." I sit up and wince as my stomach cramps where he kicked me.

He pats my head roughly, and turns around quickly. Before I can pick myself off the floor, he is already out the door, and I mutter incoherently to myself.

I brush the dirt off my front and pause. What was I even thinking? Why would I _challenge_ the Joker like that? I'm lucky I'm not seriously injured. Or dead. I shake my head stumped. I hav eno idea where my boldness came from.

My stomach growls, and I remember just how hungry I am. I sigh, and am conflicted. I can't afford to even begin hoping or expecting the Joker to bring back food, but it is hard not to _want_ to hope.

Although...

Why should I rely on _him_ to do all of the work? I'm an adult too. And I could be gone and back before he even noticed. But why should I worry about that? Why even bother to come back at all? If I got out now, I could get my life back. Maybe not here in Gotham, but maybe in a different city. The police could help me get there, and I could get a new name.

I look at the door and take a small step.

Wait.

What sort of life am I even trying to get back? A crappy little salary from writing obituaries, and a living in the bad side of town because I can't afford anything better? It seems like all I have tried to do since I got here was to go back, but I've never asked myself what there really is to go back too.

This time with the Joker has been terrifying and life altering. I can't exactly just leave here and go back to "normal." So what choice do I honestly have? Escape and either be captured and brought back here, or somehow miraculously make it out and live a terrible and depressing life?

Which is the better option?

I walk to the door, and poke my head outside. The Joker is nowhere in sight, and I have no idea how long he plans on being gone. Oh well, a person can only go so long without food, and if he catches me, he catches me.

I head away from the building at a brisk pace, and decide to try to keep track of where I'm going so that I can find my way back. One left, two rights, and another left later, I am still surrounded by empty warehouses, and wonder if this was really a bad idea. I'm just going to end up getting lost out here, and probably abducted by someone else.

I sigh, and round a right corner, determined to turn around if I don't see a change. I walk for a block, and see cars pass by on a road up ahead. Smiling, I quicken my pace, and want to laugh at my success. When I make it to the road, I recognize that I am on the smaller side of Gotham, not exactly the narrows, but close. I see the familiar golden arches of a McDonald's to the west one block, and start to move toward it when I realize that I have no money.

Why didn't I think of that before I left? I smack my forehead in frustration. I made it all the way here, and am now going to be forced to go back hungry. Great.

I am about to turn when I realize that I really need to use the bathroom. I almost want to laugh at the fact that my life is so completely surreal now and I have to pee. Wow. I shrug, and head for the McDonald's anyway.

I walk through the doors, and meet the shocked looks of the cashiers and patrons. A woman sitting with two children grabs their hands, and half-drags them out of the restaurant, her wide eyes never leaving mine. What? Am I that hideous?

I look down and realize that I'm still in that suit. Great. Just what I needed to blend in. I touch my face and feel the dry cracked paint, and realize that although these people know I'm not the Joker, (duh.) they are probably guessing I'm connected with him, and are getting out before he gets here.

I just continue walking to the back. I ignore the whispered conversations, and am now in a hurry. If one of them calls the police or something, then my little escapade will be over before I really even make any progress. When I'm done, I walk back out, and find that all of the patrons have left. I figure the employees all scattered too, when someone from the back walks out of the kitchen area carrying a paper bag. He's wearing a hair net, and I figure he must be one of the cooks.

"Hey, Ryley! I told'ya order forty-five was ready! Whaddo I hav'ta-" He freezes mid-sentence when he sees me, and his eyes go wide with shock. "W-who are you?" He stammers.

I ignore him, and focus on the bag. The smell of the restaurant has set my stomach to growling, and I feel desperate.

"What's in the bag?" I ask.

He seems surprised by my question, and looks down as if he had forgotten he was holding it. "Uh...A..." After a moment, he gives up and throws the bag in the air. I watch its spinning arc, and it lands close to me on the floor. I look back to where the man was standing, and after a delayed moment, I realize he's run away too.

I feel a little depressed to realize I have literally cleared the restaurant, but ignore it because the bag grabs my whole attention. I pick it up, and peek inside. A Big Mac with fries. My mouth waters at this rare treat. I turn, and walk out of the building, a small smile growing on my face.

A bright flash makes me jump and look up, and I see a man running away with an almost professional looking camera. He almost looks familiar, and after a moment, I realize that I've seen him before around work in the past. Oh no. They are going to put my picture in the newspaper! I hit my forehead again with frustration. I was never going to get my life back now.

I only have one option it seems.

I retrace my steps back to the warehouse, and walk through the doors depressed and a little angry. I sit down on the floor, and eat my sandwich, feeling conflicted about the people I scared earlier. I don't even know how to begin describing my feelings. I feel bad, but I also feel a little invigorated. I did something that no one had any part of. I made my own decision and was successful. No Bruce Wayne, Batman, or even the Joker had any part. Ha.

Thinking about the Joker makes me wonder. I have no idea what brought me back here. I had my chance to escape and I blew it. I should be upset. I should be depressed. But I'm not.

What does that mean?

I eat the rest of my meal in silence, and jump when I hear a vehicle outside. My eyes go wide, and I find myself almost hoping that it's the Joker. He didn't leave with a car, but it's possible he went and got one right? I jump to my feet, and run to the side of the room. I see a thin, metallic ladder, leading to a sort of catwalk above the room. I climb up it quickly, and stay on top of the catwalk where I can see the entire room beneath me.

I hear a car door open, then close, and the sound of someone getting close to the warehouse doors. The warehouse door creaks open, and I breathe a sigh of relief. It _is_ the Joker.

He walks inside, muttering to himself, and after a few steps, he freezes. He sniffs the air dramatically, and he looks over at the bag I left on the floor. He stares at it for one long second, and then chuckles darkly. It is half-angry, and half-amused, but its echoes spear me to the rails. There is something in that quiet laugh that promises violence.

As if on cue, he looks up at me as if he knew that I would be here. I swallow nervously, and can't look away from his dark eyes. He tilts his head to the side, and twists his mouth up in a dark and lopsided smirk.

"Lane?" He asks slowly.

"Um, yeah?" My voice is barely louder than a whisper, and it seems to give him some satisfaction. His eyes spark, and he takes a step in my direction slowly.

"What is _that_?" He gestures back to the crumpled bag.

So much for my feelings of accomplishment and success. "A bag." I say quietly. I try and think of ways to get away. There has to be another ladder somewhere right?

"Where did it _come_ from, Lane?" His voice reminds me of a reprimanding father.

"McDonald's." I whisper, weighing my chances of escape versus his chances of catching me.

"Hmm." He takes another step, and I can't help the shiver of fear that spreads down my back. "Does McDonald's, uh, _deliver?_"

"No." I mumble, edging along the catwalk slowly away from the ladder.

"Then _how, _uh, exactly did you get it? Hmm? Did it just _appear_ here?"

His words bring the image of the shaking cook to my mind. His fear had made me _smile_! What kind of person smiled at fear they inflicted on others? I feel disgusted and frown.

Anger comes bubbling back up, and I am filled with a wave of bravery and confidence. "No." My voice comes out clear and strong, and it seems to take him by surprise. I take advantage of his momentary silence and continue. "I left today and guess what? I went to a McDonald's. Got a problem with that? Cuz I don't. I'm _sick_ and tired of people making my decisions for me! So this is what I'm going to tell you Mr. _Joker_. I left, and I had every right too. And I came back. So obviously, there is no issue. Chillax." I breathe a little angry huff, and look down at him, waiting for some reaction. I don't know whether to expect anger or shock, but I'm definitely not expecting applause.

His hands clap together and his laugh rings with mockery. "_Very_ good, Lane." He says between giggles. "Now what?"

"What do you mean?" My voice has returned to normal in confusion.

"What are you expecting _me_ to do about it? You sound pretty intent on _puh_-roving your point. Now the only question is what you are going to do if I have _no_ intention of listening. Hmm? Did you, uh, _think,_ that far ahead?" He takes another step closer, and waits for my answer.

I realize that if I go on and tell him some crap about how I'm supposed to be my own person or something, it will just sound stupid. I should have kept my big mouth shut, because the one thing I'm learning about him, is that if you give him a chance to get in your head, you don't have a prayer of winning your battle against him.

My feelings of bravery and confidence waver, and I walk toward the ladder. If there is one thing that I'm going to keep, it's my dignity. And I would much rather climb down rather than have him come up here and throw me off or something.

I climb down the rungs quickly, and try to ignore his smug laugh. It grates on my nerves, and I try to keep calm. I turn to face him, and he saunters over to me in four smooth strides.

"Oh, Lane," His voice is mocking, "I'm sorry your pretty little speech didn't work. And you know, I have a few things to say-uh, in _response._" His voice turns cold in the end and his facial expression is a harsh mix between anger and excitement.

He grabs my hair and yanks it back, pulling me against him. His hot breath washes over my face, and his eyes are wild yet controlled at the same time. He turns quickly, pulling me around to look at the forgotten bag several yards away.

"You see that, Lane?" He starts, "That bag is called _disobedience. _And you know what happens to people that are disobedient?" The cold blade pressed against my throat is expected, and surprisingly, I don't feel any fear. All I feel is anger, and even a touch of boredom with his speech. It feels repetitive.

I sigh dramatically, and he spins me around to face him. His face is so shocked, it's actually funny. A surprised giggle escapes my lips, and I press them together tightly, finally fearing his reaction. He looks at me for a moment, and literally drops the blade to the ground. It clangs on the cement, and I am suddenly filled with a wave of confusion. I don't really like the slightly wild look in his eye, and after an awkward moment, I try to shove him off.

"Where are you, uh, _going_ Lane?" He has composed himself, and he laughs lightly.

"Let me go." I say flatly. His body is too close, and the warmness of his body is distracting and I'm not sure I can keep my self-control and dignity this close to him.

He chuckles darkly. "I don't think_-uh_, I will, Lane. Unless of course, you can _make_ me." He grips my arms even tighter, and the pain only fuels my anger. I stomp on his foot, and his loud laughter adds to my frustration. "You'll have to try _better_ than that, Lane."

"Let me go!" I say loudly, pushing against him.

"Do I not, _frighten_ you anymore?"

I continue pushing and try to wriggle out of his firm grasp with no success. He grabs my face with one hand, and holds it right in front of his own.

"_Look_ _at me."_ I meet his eyes grudgingly, and he smiles when I comply. "There we go, Lane. Was that so hard? Now I ask you again. Don't I scare you anymore?"

I'm not sure how to answer. Right now I'm kind of afraid, but it is only fear of his knife, which he dropped. The only emotion I feel towards _him_ is anger, so I shake my head slowly, narrowing my eyes.

He throws me onto the floor, and looks down at me, speculating.

"Lane? You know one thing I just don't, _understand_ about you? That you can never decide _who's_ side you're on! When I take you, you try to run. When Batman takes you, you _do_ run, when I give myself up, you go to Scarecrow to 'rescue' me." He starts pacing around me slowly. "I tell you to stay, and you _disobey _me, and go outside. Then, when you have all the freedom in the world, you come _back_? What could possibly be going on inside that little head of yours? Hmm?"

My eyes flash up to meet his, and I scowl. All of his words are true. I've done _all _of those things. But the one thing he doesn't know is that I am just as clueless to the reason as he is.

He pauses, and watches me, and after a moment, seems bored. He turns and starts walking away from me, laughing quietly to himself.

"That's what I thought, Lane. There's nothing going on in that little head of yours except a sad case of _hero_ worship. I'm flattered. Honestly."

I'm on my feet in less than a second, running at him. He has to hear me, but doesn't turn. He only pauses and I realize that I've fallen for his games _again_. I smack into his back, and he lets out a wild cackle as I bounce off, and hit the floor. The rage has me back on my feet in an instant, and I run back at him, intent on doing _some_ sort of damage. He lets me smack into him, and laughs as I hit him wildly. Angry tears form in my eyes, and I feel out of control. He has successfully gotten into my head and released this half-mad side of me that I never dreamed existed.

"Hero worship?" I yell. "You call this madness, _hero worship!_? Well your dead wrong!" I turn away from him, and the blow to the back of my head knocks me forward several feet. I turn, just in time to see his arm swing wildly toward my face, and the bright stars as he backhands me. He grabs the front of my jumpsuit and pulls me up to his face.

"Poor, Lane. I didn't mean to _ruin_ your little fantasy. Forgive me?" His sarcastic laugh takes all of the emotion out of his previous words as he shoves me away from him. I stumble backwards, trying to maintain my balance, and he slides forward, grabbing me again. My head snaps back with the sudden stop, and I feel dizzy. "But still, I'm honestly curious. Why did you ever come back for me, Lane? Hmm?"

I have no answer. I can't even begin to figure it out for myself. I've asked myself that question multiple times today, and still don't know.

He shakes me roughly, making my head throb, and growls, "I'm waiting, Lane."

"I don't know." I say quietly, anger finally beginning to ebb. "I just don't know."

Everything is quiet for a moment, and then his eyes light up in excitement. "Ohh, hoo hoo, Lane. I think _I_ know." He laughs, and I just stare at him blankly. After a moment, he leans forward, and his mouth grazes my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. "We _all_ have crushes, Lane."

"What?" I jerk back, and my head pulses in response. "I do not have a _crush_ on you! You're such a twisted psychopath!"

"We'll see." He smiles mischievously, and lets me go. He turns away from me, and for a moment, all I can comprehend is the relief of being unharmed and left alone.

Out of nowhere, he spins back around and grabs my arms.

"Hey-" He cuts off my protest by crushing his mouth against mine in a rush. My eyes open widely, and I immediately try to shove him off. His lips move quickly over mine, and I suck in a shocked breath. Before I realize my mistake, his tongue slides into my open mouth, keeping it from closing. My body locks down from the shock, and my hands drop to my sides.

He doesn't like my lack of response, and pushes his body closer to mine, grabbing my hands in the process. He puts one of them on his shoulder, and the other one on his chest. I can feel his quick heartbeat through his shirt, and my knees suddenly feel like jello.

His tongue slides over my teeth, and the feeling is so unexpected that I jerk my head back. He moves with me though, and proceeds to walk forward, pushing me backwards until my back hits the wall. He opens his eyes and sees me staring at him, and after a moment, covers my eyes with one of his gloved hands. If I didn't feel weird before, I definitely did now. I try to turn my face away from his, and he just moves to kiss my jawline and neck.

Gah-!

I can't help the gasp that comes out when he finds the one ticklish spot I have under my chin. He stops for a moment, laughing quietly to himself. I try to fight the shivers down my spine, and try to take his hand off my face.

He presses it harder onto my eyes so that it is almost painful and grabs my waist, pushing himself against me. My mind feels chaotic. It can't process everything that is going on. One second, I was fighting him, and the next I was letting him _kiss_ me?

"I told you, Lane." His voice is husky in my ear, and it sends a thrill of fear through my stomach. "It happens to all of us." He takes his hand away from my eyes, and my vision is completely filled with his face. He is smirking at me, and his eyes are alight with a spark of the chaos I feel.

My world is still spinning. I can't think. I don't know how to answer this madman or even begin to believe his words. No. I'm not going to let him get to me _again_. I'm not sure what he sees in my facial expression, but whatever it is doesn't make him happy.

He backs away from me, taking me by the arm. All I can comprehend is my pulse hammering wildly in my ears. All my mind is capable of thinking is, _What just happened_?

I'm vaguely aware of him pulling me down a hallway, and then begin to try and focus on specifics. He pauses in front of a door, and opens it. I look up to him, confused, and he smirks again.

"Here, ya go, Lane. Apparently you need some time to, uh, _think_." He shoves me backwards roughly, and I stumble into the room, falling on my backside. Ouch.

The door slams and I am left alone. I sit there quietly for a few minutes, waiting for my mind to catch up, and my heart to slow down. When I feel a little more in control, I pick myself up slowly, and look around.

I'm in a shabby looking office, with an old desk, and a sad-looking chair. Everything is covered in dust, and there is a small window up near the ceiling. I see a filing cabinet, and walk over to it.

_Bump_.

I jump back a foot when the file cabinet is hit from behind. I don't see anything but the wall, and after a second, I move to the side to get a better look. A piece of plywood has been nailed to the wall, and is being covered with the cabinet. I pause for a moment, and listen.

_Bump._

The cabinet definitely just moved. Something is on the other side.

Or some_one_...

I didn't see where the Joker took whoever he had with him, but he didn't go far from the main room. And he didn't take me far to get to _this_ room, so it's possible that we could be right next to each other, right?

I take a few steps closer to the cabinet and softly call out, not wanting the Joker to hear me.

"Hello?"

Silence.

"Can you hear me?" I take another small step. When I am about to give up and look for something else helpful, something grabs my attention.

_Tap._

A different noise than the first, but it still comes from behind the cabinet. Rather than pushing against it, whoever is behind there is tapping a response to me. I smile at my success.

"Are you alright?" I ask quietly.

_Tap._

"One tap for yes, and two for no, okay?"

_Tap._

Awesome. I am officially successful so far. I decide that I need to help this person. Maybe if we both work together, we can figure out a way to do... Something. I guess I don't have a real plan, but the crave for company (besides the Joker) is nearly overwhelming.

I move over to the cabinet, and grab the edge. I pull on the edge, and my stomach twists in pain from the Joker's earlier kick. He must have bruised me. I sigh, and grab the edge again, pulling harder, and trying to ignore the pain. After a few moments, it moves forward with a screech, and I stop, fearing the Joker will hear me. I count to sixty in my head, and hearing no one coming, and decide to continue slowly. I pull it softer, and inch by inch, get it further away from the wall.

After there is about two feet in between the cabinet and the plywood on the wall, I stop.

"I'm going to help you get out, okay?" I say quietly.

_Tap._

The nails aren't firm, and I suspect the only thing really keeping the plywood divider on the wall was the cabinet itself.

"I need you to push, okay?"

_Tap._

"On the count of three then. One. Two, three!"

I pull against the edge of the wood, and it comes out, one corner at a time. The last corner seems stuck, and after a moment, I give it a rough tug.

The board rips away from the wall with a quiet snap, and I set it against the cabinet. I small scuffling sound brings my attention back to the hole, and I see somebody crouched on the other side.

"Hello." I say. "Are you alright?"

The woman leans forward into the light and I can't help but think she looks familiar. She has blonde hair, and bright blue eyes behind glasses. I've seen her somewhere before but I just can't place it.

"Do I know you?" I ask, tilting my head slightly.

She looks at me shyly and asks, "Yeah. You took my jacket, remember?"

Oh my gosh! The woman the Joker had me rob! He _still_ has her hostage? _Why?_

I gasp and say, "I am so sorry! I really had no choice! Please forgive me!"

"That's alright." She says. "I'm used to seeing all sorts of wild things in my patients. You have nothing to worry about."

"Your... Patients?" I'm confused. She looks a little young to be a doctor.

"Allow me to introduce myself." She smiles. "My name is Dr. Harleen Quinzel. I'm a psychiatrist at Arkham Asylum."

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><p><strong>Yay, for cliff-hangers! :D :D <strong>

**Review! Do it! You know you want too... :) :) :) :) **

**And not to mention it would make my entire day to hear what you thought. Just saying.**


	16. Control

**Hello again, audience. :) Hope you enjoy.**

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><p>She smiles warmly and extends her hand, which I shake slowly.<p>

"I don't understand." I say, looking down. "You seem... _okay_ with the fact that the Joker is keeping you here."

"Oh, the Joker and I go way back." She smiles at a memory, and I frown.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I treated him at Arkham for some time, until he escaped. It's actually a _relief_ to know that he is safe."

"What?" I'm shocked, and I try to focus on keeping my voice down. "How can you use the word 'relief'? Wouldn't it be a relief to be _away_ from him, unharmed?"

"To some." She looks away. "But to others, perhaps doctors like myself, can grow to care about their patients. To care about their wants, needs, and overall well-being. _Mr._-" Her eyes snap back to mine. "The Joker is one of those cases with me. His overall safety is part of my concern. I can handle him." She seems confident, and I bite my lip.

I can't help the almost bitter feeling that crawls up inside of me when she speaks of him. It's not quite jealousy, but it's close. It's also a mix of something close to misunderstanding. I didn't think that psychiatrists allowed themselves to get so _attached_ to their patients. Especially psychotic killers like the Joker. I thought that they would sort of be on a type of 'red alert,' I suppose.

"Listen, Melanie." She stares at me with a determined look in her eyes. "The Joker is the most unique case I've ever seen. More unique than Jonathan Crane-"

"Wait." I interrupt her. "Who's Jonathan Crane?"

"He used to work with me in Arkham. He was a brilliant psychiatrist, and a brilliant chemist. However, he became obsessed with his experiments. Especially _fear_. He began using a gas that he created to dredge up his patients' worst fears. He soon became infected with the gas himself." She pauses for a moment, her eyes glassy and she seems absorbed in her story. "He is now known as the Scarecrow." She glances back at me, and tilts her head. "Did I say something that upset you?"

My mind is reeling in shock. It seems like everyone in Gotham had heard of the legendary Jonathan Crane. I had always wanted to meet him myself, but who ever heard of a struggling journalist meeting a successful psychiatrist? _He_ was the Scarecrow? Why am I surrounded on every side by _villains_? To think that when I was fighting with the Scarecrow, I was actually fighting with _Jonathan Crane_!

Harleen leans forward and takes my hand.

"Are you alright?" She asks again.

"Yeah." I manage to stammer. "That just... took me by surprise, that's all."

Her eyebrows furrow with concern, but she lets go of my hand slowly.

"Well." She continues. "As I said, the Joker is more unique than even Crane. If I could just _see_ into his mind for a small moment, I could mark my place in the world of psychiatry forever." Her eyes gleam with determination, and I am drawn into her eagerness for a second.

"But don't you think it's a little, _dangerous_ getting that close to the Joker?"

"Oh, please." She waves her hand dismissively. "Once you get past his wall, he's as harmless as a box of kittens."

I open my mouth to protest, but a loud noise from outside the room distracts me. My head snaps back to look at Harleen, and she meets my eyes quickly.

"Don't let him know we made contact, okay?" She whispers urgently, backing through our makeshift hole.

I nod my head quickly, scrambling to my feet, and tiptoe to the other side of the room when I realize the file cabinet is still away from the wall. I look frantically at the door, and panic as I see the knob begin to turn.

I react instinctively. I fall to the ground in a heap, and put my head down. Was I playing dead? I don't know. The door opens, and I lift my head slowly, trying to look innocent. A man I do not recognize stands in the doorway, and my eyes go wide. I shuffle backwards, trying to escape the stranger who is now walking toward me with a fierce look in his eye.

He is over six feet tall, and built like an ox. He is wearing a grimy white shirt, and I can see tattoos covering both of his arms.

I suck in a shocked breath, intending to scream for help when I realize I have no one to call out too. Maybe Harleen, but what were two slight females like us going to do to a huge man like this? Nothing close to damage.

"Get up." The man says harshly, stopping a foot in front of me. His voice is as deep as his body is menacing.

I nod my head frantically, but can't get up. My body feels like a puddle, and I have no muscle control. After a moment, the man yells it again, and my body locks down in terror.

I turn my head, and close my eyes when I begin to feel a different, more powerful awareness in my mind. Control of my muscles returns with something close to ferocity. I open my eyes, and look down, but don't see a physical change. The power is undeniable however, and I get to my feet quickly. The man grabs my wrist and my head whips back to look at him.

"Let me go!" I say harshly, spinning out of his grasp. I analyze the man before me. I could never have a chance with him hand to hand, but I can definitely evade him. A man that size can't be light on his feet.

He lunges for me, and I move to the side. I take off running past him, and fly out of the small room. When I make it to the main room, I don't see anyone, and my eyes search for anything to defend myself with. I see crates, and rope. Nothing super useful. Then I remember the catwalk.

I sprint across the room, reaching the ladder when the large man enters. I climb up quickly, and get an idea.

"Hey, stupid." I call. "Why don't you go bother someone you're actually capable of _catching_, huh? Maybe a toddler? I hear they can't run very fast." I sneer down at him.

The man curses, and starts climbing the rungs. A small part of me wants to run, but I know what I'm doing. I wait for his hands to reach the top, and just before he can pull himself up, I stomp down on his fingers.

He yells out, instinctively bringing his hands to his mouth, and begins to fall backward. His eyes go wide, and he reaches out toward the rungs, barely grasping them. His eyes meet mine, and they are filled with his rage.

_BANG!_

The man's eyes become shocked, and he looks down slowly, staring at the red beginning to bloom beneath his shirt. He turns to look at me again, and after a short moment, his fingers release the rungs, allowing him to fall backwards almost in slow motion.

My eyes close, and I hear the sickening thump of his body hitting the ground beneath me. The sound causes my head to start spinning, and I feel nausea begin to creep its way into my stomach.

The Joker's laugh echoes throughout the room, distracting me slightly, and I can hear his irritation breaking through his amusement.

"_Well,_ well, well, Lane." He says, as I open my eyes. He is standing across the room, putting a gun into his pocket. "I leave you alone for a measly _ten_ minutes, and look at all of the trouble you cause for me."

"For _you_?" I ask, confused.

"Yes! Do you know how hard it's getting to replace my goons? And when I think I finally found someone, you do _this_." He gestures to the bottom of the ladder, and I refuse to look.

"But... I didn't do anything!" I say, my muscles becoming weaker. My head is really beginning to spin, and my stomach churns with discomfort. My legs feel weak, and my vision blurs slightly.

"Oh yes you did, Lane. The evidence is right in front of you. Now come down here. I need to speak with you about a _little_ something."

The room is spinning still, making it hard to concentrate, and I am becoming more confused. The joker's words aren't making much sense. Why was I here? How did I get up here? Where was Harleen? Wasn't I just talking with her?

"_Lane_! Now." He growls, and I look down at him. I get onto the ladder slowly, trying to figure out the weird blankness of my mind, and climb down. When I reach the bottom, I turn, and gasp loudly, my hand flying to cover my mouth.

I stumble backward a few feet, and trip over something, falling backward. I hit my head on a crate, and can't tear my eyes away from the body in front of me. There is something so incredibly familiar about it, and I feel a trickle of fear begin to crawl up my spine.

The Joker is in front of me in moments, his head tilted to the side. "Uhh, what_'sa_ matter, Lane?"

I look from his face to the dead man and back several times, trying to process the scene. My mind is still confused as to how I even got here. Silently, I lift a shaking hand, and point to the body on the floor.

"Yes, Lane. I killed that man. You watched me. But, where's the-uh, _problem_?"

"I...You..." I look down at the floor, and try to think. The man was coming toward me, and I... _faded_. There's no other word to describe it. "I don't like this." My voice is shaky. "No, no no, I don't like this at all!" I look back up at him, and don't understand his speculating face.

"What don't you like, hmm? That I saved your silly little life _again_?" He doesn't sound amused.

"No! I don't remember! Don't you see? I _am_ going crazy!" I shout, angry tears forming in my eyes. "It's all your fault! Why did you have to take _me_? Huh? Why not mess with somebody else's mind and tear it to shreds in the process?"

"What are you talking about, Lane? What, _exactly _are you forgetting?"

"_That_!" I say exasperated, pointing at the body. "I don't know how I even got out here! Last I remember I was-" I cut myself off, almost telling him that I knew about Harleen.

"Oh, don't worry. I remember it too." He winks at me, and smirks. Wait, ick. I'm not even going to think about what happened. "And you aren't going _crazy_, Lane! Just consider the memory loss a _minor_ side effect."

"A side effect? Of _what_?"

"Scarecrow's gas." He states matter-of-factly, rolling his eyes back to my face.

"What?" I look down, thinking about the inhaler in my pocket. "But I didn't use it!"

"You didn't? Well, that's interesting." He muses quietly. "I watched you out there, and you were clearly under the-uh, _impression_ of it."

"Well, what does that mean?" I look back up at him, seeing a smile growing on his face.

"It means that things are going to get a _lot_ more fun!" He chuckles darkly. He pulls me up from the ground, and drags me into an open space. "Now. What triggered it?"

"I...Don't remember." I shake my head slowly.

He crosses the space between us quickly, and grabs my hair harshly. "_Think_." He growls in my ear. My mind scrambles to organize itself, and I let out a shaky breath. I close my eyes, and try to concentrate, but nothing happens.

"I really-"

"You _do_ remember_. Think_, Lane."

I hear him reach in his pocket, and I remember the gun. My heart takes off with adrenaline from my fear, and my legs feel weak. I stumble a little, and try to maintain my balance. My eyes close.

I feel something as soft as a brush spread down my entire body. Chills follow the feeling, and it begins to grow. The power builds until I feel like I can't contain it. My eyes flash open, and target the Joker's hands. He has one on my wrist, and the other holds the gun.

I spin around, breaking his grip while throwing my hand out toward the gun. I twist it from his unsuspecting grasp, and skip three steps back, pointing it at his chest.

"Stop." I snarl. "I'm sick of this game."

A wicked smile grows on his face, and his eyes light up as he watches me. He chuckles to himself quietly, and puts his hands up, never breaking eye contact.

"_Very_ good, Lane. I'm impressed."

"Stop it!" I shout. "What's _happening_ to me?" My eyes are wide with anger, as I take in the details around me.

The Joker shifts his weight; a light above us flickers; the wall across the room is covered in sparkling dew-like droplets and green algae.

I hate this. I feel like a different person. The gun shakes, and the Joker answers my question in an almost serious tone.

"Easy, Lane. As much as I _love_ this- Ah! Easy..." He pauses as I twitch the gun. "Just calm down." He says, beginning to walk forward.

He's going to try and take the gun. I already know his plan. I see the calculating look in his eyes, and it fuels my rage.

"I said, _Stop_!" My grip is now firm, and the gun does not shake. He smiles and a quiet chuckle escapes his lips, grating on my already fried nerves, and takes another step. His movement is extremely deliberate and his eyes confirm the challenge. I cock the gun, and he smiles wider.

"_Do it_." He goads, and takes another step. I narrow my eyes, and put my finger on the trigger. "Do it!"

I take a steadying breath to try to calm myself. It would be so _easy_ to end this madness here and now. I doubt I would ever be arrested or anything for killing Gotham's most wanted. The world would benefit greatly from the loss of this one deranged clown. I can't begin to imagine the countless lives I would be sparing if I took him out of the equation. This madman who had taken my mediocre little life and turned it into something dark and chaotic. Making me into some angry person that turned into a psycho whenever she got afraid of something. He deserved to _pay_ for his actions.

But.

If I were to give in now, I would be as bad as he is. Sure I'm not a psychotic serial killer, but I would still be considered a murderer. A _killer_. Someone that deserved to be locked away forever. I can't do it.

But I can _pretend_...

He takes another step, taking advantage of my hesitation, and I aim directly in front of him.

_BANG!_

The bullet hits the floor a few inches in front of his foot, and I smirk at his surprised twitch.

Now I'm out of surprises, and I am at a slight loss as to what my next move should be.

I can't let him get this gun. I can't let him gain control of this. I only see two options. I could either actually shoot him, or I could get rid of the gun. I choose option two.

I throw the gun behind me, and hear it clunk against something a moment later.

Wait. Now no one is in control. I see the Joker realize it at the same time as I do, and his mouth turns up at the exciting challenge. He lunges for me and I skip back a step in response. He frowns slightly, and tries again, which I evade. He begins coming at me from the side, over and over, flowing from one attempt to the next without a break, almost catching me twice. I notice that he is trying to herd me into a corner. He isn't attacking offensively, he is just trying to move me.

I decide it is time to act. I wait for him to lunge again, and duck beneath his arm. Before he recovers, I run past him crossing the room quickly. After a quick assessment, I see a large pile of crates, and begin to climb them quickly. I pause as I reach the top, and turn around. I'm surprised to find the Joker on the other side of the room rather than right behind me. He is leaning down and reaching for something on the ground.

The gun.

I climb down the opposite side of the pile, and hide behind the crates. My mind scrambles to try to find an escape, as I hear him begin to make his way toward me.

"Big mistake, Lane." He chuckles quietly. "Now what are you gonna do? Hmm?"

My eyes dart around the room, and time slows for a moment. I hear each of his footsteps and even the shallow sound of his breathing. I'm stuck. I have no idea how to get out of this. He has a loaded gun, and I am unarmed, sitting on a crate.

The Joker would never fall for the whole catwalk stunt. I can't use the rope I saw earlier. He would shoot me before I got to it. Even with my senses at their peak, I can think of no way out.

My entire body gives up. I feel drained both emotionally and physically. Dizziness and nausea come crawling back, and my head drops in defeat. It feels like the room is spinning, and I feel the power and rage melt out of my system.

After a few moments, I lift my head up groggily and am surprised to see the Joker standing in front of me again. My eyes go wide when I realize he has a gun pointed directly at me.

"Wait!" I cry. "What are you doing?"

He cocks his head to the side, and his eyes search mine.

"Well, well, well." He says after a few moments. "That's... _interesting_. Tell me, what were we just talking about?"

I think back and realize that it is actually rather difficult to figure it out. I feel a sense of... _blankness_ that I don't understand. After a few moments of struggling, I remember the faded face of a man on a ladder looking down at himself...

"Did you kill somebody?" I ask slowly.

He shocks me even more by throwing his head back with a loud cackle that chills my bones. "Hahaha! I _told_ you this was going to be fun! Catch." He throws the gun flying through the air, and it lands next to me with a strong thump. I shy away from the weapon, and look back at his face, confused.

"What am I supposed to do?" I ask, glancing between them.

"Simple. Shoot me." He crosses his heart in an "X" shape. "Right here."

"What?" I am purely shocked. "No!"

"Why not, Lane?" He asks in a happy tone.

"That's insane! I'm not going to play your games!" I say, climbing down from my perch. He pulls me back by my hair, and I suddenly get the urge to cut my hair short at the next opportunity because this whole hair-pulling thing is _really_ getting old.

He pulls me close to his face, and his eyes probe mine. I have no idea what he's looking for, but he grunts in the back of his throat giving me no clues, and starts pulling me down the hallway toward 'my room.' He opens the door and shoves me inside almost harshly.

"I have a _few_ things to think about, Lane. Why don't you, uh, take some time and do the _same_, eh?"

The door closes loudly, and I look down, lost in thought. I can only think of one thing he really needs to think about and that is my weird mood swings.

I have a bad feeling that he is going to try and mold me into some bad criminal, and hope that he is unsuccessful. I notice that now, my memory is definitely improving and I can semi-remember the stunt with the gun. And if my memory is improving, that means that I also may be able to still be me, right?

I am going to need to try and practice keeping control. But that means delving into that other awareness openly, and I'm not sure I can do that without being lost. If I practice enough, I can hope to be able to gain some sort of control _eventually_, right?

But how do you even begin to control chaos?

To that I have no answer.

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><p><strong>Okay, so what did yo uthink? like it hate it? Have an idea or advice? let me know! Who can't wait for Dark Knight rises? :D**


	17. Scared

**I'm back! :D :D :D **

**And I feel there is so much to say, but I will keep it short. **

**A huge thank you to those who PM'd me and helped me through the past month and a haf. You guys are awesome. **

**Another thanks to both ArtemisOsimetrA, and xTune. You both have helped me out a lot, and between the both of you, have brought me back to this story. :) Thank you. **

**I hesitated updating right now because of what happened in Colorado, but I did feel like now is an okay time. My heart goes out to all those affected by this terrible tragedy, and I feel it is important to note that what we do on this site is FICTION. There is a difference between it and real life. Batman isn't real, and it is important that people really know the difference between the real world, and the world of fiction. **

**Sorry for my rant... I don't own anything related to Batman, (Except Melanie Ryder) and hope that you all enjoy!**

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><p>The next morning, I am shocked awake by the door slamming open and banging into the wall. I sit up nervously, having a feeling I know what today is going to entail.<p>

The Joker stands in the doorway, his lips turned down in a frightening snarl, and it clashes wildly with his painted on smile. His eyes are dark and calculating and I fight my wobbling legs to stand up straight.

His next words confirm my suspicions, and strengthen my resolve at the same time.

"Let the _fun_ begin." He doesn't even chuckle.

He takes a deliberate step in my direction, and I try to focus. I spent half the night trying to think of ways to control my fear level, and try to remember what I came up with.

I slow my breathing, and also try to take deeper breaths. I am hoping that this will keep my heart rate from jumping around too much, and that I can delay whatever Scarecrow's gas did to me. I had been humming the most relaxing song I could think of to myself half the night, and started humming quietly again, under my breath.

The Joker begins walking forward aggressively, probably hoping to freak me out, and tilts his head to the side, pulling out a knife.

My calm breaths freeze for half a second, and so I close my eyes, humming even louder.

_I can do this! I can do this! I can do this!_

I hear his footsteps pause right in front of me, and can feel his stare. His quiet laugh breaks the silence, and I scrunch my eyes even tighter. He's had all night to think of different ways to make me scared and push me over the edge, and I can only hope that I am prepared enough to stall him.

"_Divenire_? Really?" He almost seems disappointed.

"You know Einaudi?" I am shocked that not only does the Joker know a classical piece of music, but he can recognize and name it, just by hearing my hum.

"Ha! Of _course_ I do, Lane! Who wouldn't?" He sighs dramatically, and covers his face with a gloved hand. I am shocked and surprised to learn this strange new information about the Joker, and look down at the floor slowly. "What? Just because I'm Gotham's most _wanted," _He pulls the word out with a sneer and continues, "Doesn't mean that I can know a good piece of music when I hear it?"

"Um… no." I say quietly.

"Good then." He makes a satisfied noise in the back of his throat, and turns around. I watch him take a few steps and suddenly remember why he was here in the first place.

Three things happen at once. I suck in a shocked gasp when I realize he has successfully gotten me distracted, and that I have let my guard down. At the same time, I see him spin around in almost slow-motion; the back of his purple suit swirling around almost gracefully. And finally, I slam my eyes closed, and try to imagine myself in a happy place.

My mind does in fact go blank, but I struggle with the whole picture thing. My entire body is tense with the stress of trying to figure out what exactly the Joker is trying to do, and so it's rather difficult trying to picture myself somewhere else.

"Ooh… I know what you're uh, _doing_, Lane. Or at least _trying-uh_, to do." I hear his footsteps get closer. "How's-about I help'ya out? Hmm?" He takes my silence as a yes, and continues. "_Picture this_: You're twelve years old, sitting at home. Mommy is drunk on the couch, and you're waiting for daddy to come home." No. This story is all too easy to picture, and I fight against its toxic images weaving their way through my imagination. "It's getting late, Lane. Daddy has never been this late before. You look out the window and see a thunderstorm. Lightning has always frightened you, hasn't it?" He laughs quietly, and I try to imagine something else. _Anything_ else. "You wait for a long_, long_, time, and finally daddy comes through the door. But _wait_. Someone else is with him. A woman. You don't know who she is, but you can't look away as they embrace. He takes his hand, and starts to-"

"_Stop it_!" I shout. "Stop it, you _insane_ freak!" My eyes flash open and the room turns hazy. All I care about is making the stupid clown quiet. A brush of something close to heat brushes down my spine, and I realize what's happening.

"No." I say quietly. I inhale deeply, and try to relax my body as I exhale. My body aches with the conflicting reactions. It doesn't know whether to be alert, relax, or try to find a mix of both.

The Joker starts talking again, but I ignore him easily. I don't have any extra room in my head to even hear his words. I am focused entirely on keeping calm, and strangely enough, the soft hum that his voice makes is actually helpful.

Suddenly, I'm sitting on the ground, with no idea how I got there. I look up slowly, and see him standing over me, with his fist extended, and realize he must have hit me. Strange. I don't even feel any pain. I meet his eyes, confused, and watch him shake his head slowly. He leaves the room, and the only noise I really register is the small click of a lock. Like I would even try to leave.

I stand up numbly, and realize that I _did_ it! I actually held my own! Sure, I almost lost my control, but what matters is that I was successful! My heart fills with joy at my success.

I hear a scraping noise, and turn around to see Harleen's hands pushing aside the wood covering the hole in between our rooms. A moment later her confused face appears, that lifts into a relieved smile to see me sitting there.

"Hello, Harleen." I say.

"Melanie!" It's almost weird to hear my full name again after so long. "Are you alright?"

I walk over to her, and sit in front of the hole. "Yes." I answer. "But a lot has happened."

"So I've heard." Her eyes meet mine and I see a trace of fear in her eyes, but she continues quickly. "Through the wall, I mean."

"Oh... Yeah, well I guess it hasn't really been quiet..." I spend the next few minutes filling her in on everything, and telling her of my fears of the Joker's plans. She listens quietly, but doesn't seem very surprised. "So, what do you think about all of this?" I ask when I'm finished.

"I think that you should be on your toes around him." She says thoughtfully. "And I didn't mean to eavesdrop before, but seeing as there is only a piece of plywood separating our rooms, I couldn't help but hear the Joker's story he was telling you." I flinch at the memory. "Melanie… if you ever want to talk about anything, well… I _am_ a psychiatrist."

"Oh." I look down, "Okay. Thanks."

"He could be back anytime, so we can talk later, alright?" I nod as she backs out of the whole and I cover it back up.

I sit back down in the middle of the floor, and wait. I don't know when the Joker is coming back, but I may as well be as relaxed as possible when he does. I try not to think about Harleen or the Joker. I decide to think about Bruce Wayne. When I stayed with him, I felt accepted and happy. I wasn't thrilled about him using me as bait, but compared to recent events; it was a cake walk living with him.

I wonder what it would be like to have a life like Bruce's. Wealth and fame from childhood; fundraisers on a weekly basis, surrounded by people who would always aspire to be as successful as me.

There was just one thing I wasn't sure about. He was gone _a lot_. I know it would be expected, but it just seemed like he disappeared more than usual.

Wait.

I suddenly remember something else. It's dark, and fuzzy, but it's definitely a memory. I'm on the street talking to Batman. He recognizes me as Melanie Ryder. But I was toying with him about something… Something he was afraid of…

Bruce…. Batman.

_Bruce Wayne is Batman_!

I remember that conversation now! Oh my gosh, what am I going to do? How in the world am I supposed to stay relaxed _now_? My heart hammers in my chest, and my breathing speeds up. I feel that brush again, and panic. I can't lose control! Not now!

I close my eyes, and hold my breath. I start humming _Divenire_ again, but it just reminds me of the Joker, so I stop.

After a few minutes, my breathing slows, and my heart returns to a normal pace. A moment passes and I hear a sound that sinks my heart. Footsteps outside my door. I hear the Joker's quiet laugh of anticipation, and try to just look brave as he door slowly opens.

I don't see anyone at first, and wonder if the Joker is expecting me to walk out there. Yeah, fat chance that'll ever happen.

A black-gloved hand curls around the doorframe, and I freeze. I know it isn't the Joker because theatrical or not, he wears purple gloves, not black. The man emerges slowly and dramatically, and all it takes is seeing the mask to put the pieces together.

The Joker had brought the Scarecrow. Or I should say, Jonathan Crane.

Great. I have no idea what I'm going to do now….

"Hello again, _girrrrl_." His voice is almost creepier when he's being courteous.

"Jonathan." I try to keep my voice from shaking as I nod my head.

I watch him pause for a moment. He's probably surprised to find out I know his name. He composes himself quickly though, and continues to almost ooze into the room. His presence is like a virus; sucking the happiness and hope out of the room almost visibly. I fight the urge to flee, but can't help the goosebumps that sweep along my neck and arms.

"I hear that you have had some… inte_rrr_esting side effects to my ga_sss_." His voice is a hiss. "So naturally… I have come to find out a little mo_rrrr_e…. About them."

He is a few feet from me, and my heart takes off. I don't want to be experimented with, and I don't want this man anywhere near me. It's his fault that I'm like this, and I don't think he can do anything but make it worse. I feel the brush of heat down my spine, and I try to push the feeling away. It's the exact reason the Scarecrow was here in the first place, and I couldn't give in.

He tilts his head to the side, and extends his arm toward my face, and my stomach sinks when I realize he has replaced the nozzle that Batman ripped off.

Hey! I remembered something else! Maybe there's hope for my situation after-all.

I hear the Joker giggle in anticipation and I fight my irritation. It's hard enough trying to pay attention to Crane, without the added stress of Mr. Giggles behind him.

I try to stay still as his hand softly traces my jawline. I don't want to give him any more clues, and I can't read his face because of the mask. Wait… I remember more about the night I 'rescued' the Joker.

"How's your face?" The words escape my lips without permission.

"_What_?"

"The last time I saw you, you were… sick.. or something. Did the medicine help?"

His hand constricts around my throat, and I hear the Joker gasping for air in between his laughter. I have no idea what he's so happy about, but I can't focus on him right now.

"You have no right to speak to me without permi_sssion_." He flexes his hand, and I struggle to breathe.

"Sorry." I manage to squeak out.

"Ah, what's the harm in showin' her, Jonny?" The Joker's voice comes closer. "Maybe I should have been a doctor'r somethin' cuz your face is downright _gorgeous_ now." More laughter.

Scarecrow's head jerks around to look at the Joker, and at the same time, the Joker sweeps his arm up and pulls off the mask anyway.

Jonathan Crane's face is not the same as my fuzzy memory. He still looks a little older than me, with brown hair and the piercing blue eyes, but that is where the similarities end. His face is a smooth beige, unaffected by a rash or breakout of any kind. His skin-tone is even and not chalky in the slightest. Overall he is a very attractive man, and I can only begin to imagine his admirers when he was a successful doctor.

Right now however, he is glaring daggers at the Joker's smiling face, and an irritated sigh escapes his lips.

"How am I supposed to get what we need if you won't let me _work_?" He snarls. Well, that's a relief. I was beginning to think he only spoke with the hiss to his voice. Don't get me wrong, he still is intimidating and forceful, but without the creepy and frightening edge he has with the mask.

"Well, I _wanted-uh_, to let Lane see _my_ work. So… _deal with it_." It's hard to describe just how much of the Joker's voice says, '_I don't care what you think_.'

Jonathan's anger is apparently getting hard to control, because his hand contracts further around my throat, and I begin to see stars. I can feel my self-control slipping inch by little inch, and I fight as hard as I can to contain it while at the same time, trying to keep my breathing even. Everything is still for a moment, and Jonathan let's his head drop as he rubs his eyes with his other hand. He shakes his head the slightest, making a low noise in his throat, and pushes me away from him.

I stumble backwards, and try to maintain my footing. I don't see behind me though, and fall backwards over something small on the ground. My back and head smack against the floor, and my control goes out the window. Forget having to scare me into it, just stress me out for a while and I snap just by falling over.

The heat flows through me, and I feel powerful. My heart beats like a drum, and I'm surprised they can't hear it. I can hear _them_ though.

Jonathan leaves the room whispering to himself, and the Joker follows behind him literally skipping out of the room. I don't know how anyone could ever dream of understanding him in the slightest. Except knowing he's a psycho.

I get up quickly, and move over to the door before it closes all the way. I poke my head out, and see the two men walking out of the hallway.

"Ya know, Jonny…" The Joker says in a happy tune. "I find it _fascinating_ that you talk to your secret '_friend_' that way…. You think you could make Lane do it too?"

Jonathan just makes a disgusted sound and ignores him, and I smile knowing that I am making progress without them realizing it.

I'm not sure what I'm going to do, but there's nothing like a little improv to keep it interesting right?

I move into the large room silently, and crouch behind some boxes and observe the two men.

The Joker is standing at a table, twisting a knife around, while Jonathan stands still; quietly watching him.

"Ya know, Jonny… How long do ya think it'll take'ya to… _figure_ out Lane?" He puts the knife down, and pulls out a potato peeler.

"Well, longer now that she's prepared." Jonathan still seems aggravated, and I see him shake his head slightly again. Is that what the Joker meant about him talking to his 'secret friend'?

The Joker sighs dramatically, and stands up in a huff. "Make it quick won'tcha? I'll give ya till morning." He walks toward the door, and doesn't pause as Jonathan calls out to him.

"Wait! Where are _you_ going?"

"I'm a busy man, Jonny. And I need to check up on a few things…" He laughs quietly in anticipation.

"Ah. I get it. You're going to go chase Batman around all night again, right?"

The Joker just laughs, and leaves the building.

Jonathan turns around, and rubs his face with his hands.

"Yes, I know." He says, and I realize that he really is talking to himself. "But think of the consequences… No… Yes."

His voice gets quieter, and I strain to hear the rest. I begin getting the familiar funny feeling in my nose, and panic. Sneezing right here wouldn't be the greatest idea.

No, no no no no…..

"Bless you." Jonathan's voice surprises me, because I haven't even sneezed yet.

He turns around, and our eyes meet. Just as I am about to panic, my brain jumps into action. I spin around and leap up onto the pile of boxes, climbing to the top quickly. I jump off the other end, and grab the end of the catwalk.

A side part of my consciousness realizes that it is really handy having it here…

I pull myself up and turn quickly, looking for Jonathan.

He isn't there.

I search all along the floor beneath me, and don't see him. The smallest shift in pressure warns me of the intruder to my perch. I spin back around and see him standing about five feet from me, mask on, and fists clenched.

"Look, Jonathan.." I say in a warning tone

"Jona_thannn_ isn't here…." He hisses, and begins to come closer. I walk backwards, keeping my eyes on him, and feel the strength begin to build up within me. "It seems we made a… _slight_ miscalculation in the _ingredientsss_." He says, apparently to himself. My back hits the edge of the railing, and I don't know where to go.

The pressure of the railing triggers a reaction in my muscles. I've reached the point of fight or flight, and because flight isn't an option, my body acts on its only option. I run toward Scarecrow, and lean to the left. As soon as he lunges, I spin and go around his right side. My feet slam against the metal beneath me, and I hear him begin to follow.

I get to the end of the catwalk, and use the railing to swivel around. Scarecrow is reaching out to grab me, and I react without thinking. I jump off the edge while still grasping the rail of the ladder. I lose sight of Scarecrow as I descend, and immediately feel the burn on my hand. I let go of the railing, and do the only thing I can think of. Bend my knees.

The force of the ground hits me hard, and the air is pushed out of me. It's a miracle that I even remain standing. My eyes struggle to focus and the edge in my mind fades for a moment, making me forget what's happening.

I hear a noise behind me and spin around quickly. Scarecrow is standing at the bottom of the ladder, and triggers the edge and my memory to return in full force.

I back up as he begins creeping in my direction, and my back hits the wall. He crosses the distance between us quickly, and tilts his head as he examines me. (I assume he's examining me, but once again, the mask prevents a guarantee.)

"Yes, the results are very _interrresting_." He muses to himself again. "Not enough _fearrr_ however, don't you agree?"

Truth be told, I was in fact very afraid right now. But hiding my fear was my only chance at keeping some of my dignity at this point. My eyes search for an escape, and just as I have the spark of an idea, Scarecrow's hand whips up and distracts me.

"Enough games." He growls. The puff of white smoke burns into my lungs and my eyes burn with the sting. This is a different gas then the one before and I can't stop the chills that crawl up my body. My breathing accelerates, and a small squeak of a moan comes out of my mouth. I feel like the world can see my every movement, and the fear spiking into my bloodstream is stronger and more potent than I have ever felt in my life.

I can't breathe. My lungs try to work, but just spasm with terror. An icy chill swirls past me and I fall on the floor beneath him. My eyes twitch and I try to concentrate on the room around me. All I can see is the mask. His laugh echoes around the room, but strangely, it brings me closer to the surface of sanity. I've heard a more terrifying laugh before. And the Joker isn't around to make it. Hearing the Scarecrow's almost modestly sinister chuckle does nothing compared to the wild cackle that belongs to the Joker.

My entire body is quivering. I don't dare move, because of the absolute terror that is surrounding my every thought. There isn't a coherent reason for it, or a specific cause. All I can comprehend is the _feeling_.

After what feels like hours, He walks away and sits at a table. He pulls a briefcase out and writing on a piece of paper from inside.

I can't look at him anymore though. What if he sees me watching? Shivers convulse down my body at the thought, and so I give up and try to concentrate on breathing.

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><p><p>

Time means nothing to me. I lay there on the ground and face the terrors of whatever thought crosses my mind. Everything seems to have a darker possibility and I realize I have no escape to this madhouse.

I see sunlight grow dimly on the floor and panic. What if it burns me?

Scarecrow seems to notice the hitch in my breathing, and gets up.

"Time to move, _girrrl_." He hisses.

"N-n-n" My attempt at refusing gets caught in my throat.

He grabs my arm harshly and whispers harshly. "You wouldn't want them to _get _you, would you?"

I squeak with the terror of the unknown crawling somewhere on the floor and am on my feet in an instant. He drags me back to my room, and pushes me inside. I hear the door close behind me, and fall to my knees.

Hopelessness and loneliness overwhelm me, and I do the only thing I can.

Cry.

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><p><strong>Alright... Hope you all enjoyed! Don't you just lve the new reviewing section right under here? Sure makes it easier, right? :D <strong>

**And one last thing, I'm leaving tomorrow morning for 10 days on my family's annual Camping Trip. So, no internet, cell phone, technology in general... So Uless you review today, I can't respond like I usually do, so don't think I'm ignoring you! Your reviews absolutely make my day! :D**


	18. Agency

**Hello again! Hope you like this one! My camping trip was indeed enjoyable so thanks for the well-wishes!**

**And Zeny! You don't have an account so I can't PM you and thank you for your wonderful reviews, so THANKS! :D for reviwing C.C, and Waited.. :) I'm glad you like them. **

**Just a quick note, my parents are talking about cancelling our WiFi, sooooo Fall term starts in Late Septmber, and I might not be able to update until then... SOrry in advance... :( **

**Enjoy! **

**I still don't own Batman... Sad Day**

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><p>After a few minutes, I begin to feel the almost drain-like pull of the gases' effects wearing off. The only way I can describe it is like it is oozing out with every breath I took. Little by little.<p>

I shuffle over to the plywood separating my room from Harleen's, and pull it off roughly.

"Harleen?" I half-whisper.

No answer.

I repeat myself a little louder, and am greeted with silence.

It takes me a moment, but I finally grasp what it means. She isn't in the room.

I stand there for a few moments, confused. I don't know where she would be… I didn't see the Joker take her with him when he left…

I hear footsteps coming from the hallway, so I push the plywood back in place, and take a few steps into the middle of the room. The door opens and Jonathan walks in smoothly, an aura of calmness and control around him. He stops right in front of me, and takes my chin in his hand, pulling it up to examine me. My eyes meet his, and all I can see is calculation. No anger, resentment, or guilt about what he had just done to me. Only hard calculation.

After a short moment of awkward silence, he clears his throat.

"Miss Ryder…" He starts simply. "I have a few things to tell you."

I just stare at him dumbly for a moment, but realize he's waiting for an answer so I nod my head slowly.

"It appears the gas I had originally given you did indeed do its intended job, but had a _side_-effect." He twists the word with a sneer. "When your heart reaches an accelerated rate; caused by stress, anxiety, or _fear_," He smiles as he says the word, "The _effects_… take control of some of your actions. It appears it specifically targets your instinct for self-preservation, while also heightening your perception of your surroundings." He lets go of my face and sighs. "Now all that's left is to decide what to do with _you_."

"What?" I manage to squeak out the word. My mind is reeling, trying to keep up with all of the new information. "What do you mean?"

"The Joker has given me specific instructions for you." He adjusts his glasses, and his blue eyes focus intently on me. "But I think I have my _own _plans." He laughs softly to himself.

"And what might those be?" I whisper.

"I can either follow his instructions, or I can offer you an _escape_."

I gasp when I hear the last word. Hope, impossible as it seems, blossoms through my chest, and I try to reel it in too late because I can see his smug smile of victory as I give myself away.

"You would like that wouldn't you?" His smile is so twisted that it almost becomes a sneer. "Escaping this place?"

I look down, and try to fight the rush of hope at his words. Where would I go? The Joker would just come find me if I left. Escape isn't an option. He's using it as a trick. Anger fills my chest as I realize what he's trying to do. My eyes flash up to meet his, and I am about to yell something hideous at him when he interrupts me.

"Would you like to know what the Joker has _planned_ for you?"

I nod my head numbly, still trying to control my anger.

"He wants me to make your symptoms _worse_."

"_What_?!" I take an involuntary step backward. "No! He can't! He just wanted to find the trigger!" My mind is reeling in shock. I can't let him make it worse. It's already wrong in so many aspects.

"At first, he only wanted the trigger. But now he wants you more unstable."

I shake my head back and forth, my lips parted in denial. "Please." I whisper. "Don't."

He inhales deeply with a small smile. "And what do you think about my other options?"

"What do you mean by escape? He'll find me if I leave."

"You are becoming less and less valuable to him as the days pass. He's not going to keep you around much longer."

"You're wrong. The Joker wouldn't just throw me out like used trash." I scoff.

"No. He would probably just shoot you. Or use a knife. Look. I don't have much time here, but I'll warn you. You need to get out soon, or it will be too late for any offer from me. Decide."

His bright eyes pierce mine, waiting for the decision.

I can't think straight. I don't know how to describe what I'm feeling. Even if I could get out, why would I go with Jonathan Crane? He was the reason my brain was all messed up anyways!

A door slams somewhere close by, making me jump a little. Jonathan's head snaps around and I get a glimpse of his face turning down into a snarl. He pushes me away from him without looking in my direction, and I stumble backwards, trying to maintain my footing. I look up just in time to see Jonathan's back as he leaves the room briskly.

I can hear him start a conversation with the Joker and I hope fervently that he won't decide to make it worse. I can barely stand to be this way, and just the thought of losing my control almost full-time? The thought make my breathing turn into gasps and my eyes to open wide with near-panic.

Something bangs loudly on the walls. Jonathan's voice still sounds sure and calm as he speaks with the Joker, but I hear the latter speak in a growl. After a minute, one set of footsteps comes toward my door.

The Joker opens the door, and I take a step back. His eyes are dark and promise violence, and his mouth is turned down in a scowl. I only have time to register that he is holding a coiled newspaper in his hand a moment before it hits me across the face.

"Do you realize what you've _done_?" He growls. "_Look._" He opens the newspaper, and there I am, on the front page.

_Missing reporter now criminal?_

Below the title are two photos. My ID photo from the office, and the picture snapped of me at that McDonald's. I knew that guy looked familiar.

I take the newspaper and look at it with a sad expression. Even if I could somehow escape with Jonathan Crane, there was nothing I could ever do to erase this.

"I would say "congratulations", Lane, but with the way you've been acting lately… You don'_tuh_ deserve them." He seems extremely upset, and I'm not completely sure that it is all because of the newspaper incident.

"Did I do something wrong?" I ask softly.

"It's not that you did some-_pah_-thing. It's just.. _you_. You are wrong."

I look down, and feel worthless. I can't go back to my life now, and the Joker is probably going to kill me now that I have no purpose. Things just keep getting better for me aren't they?

"Are you going to kill me now?" I ask, looking at the floor.

"Haha!" He exclaims. "_Kill you_? Lane, I'm not going to _kill_ you…" He laughs again. "I'm just going to make you… worth the _effort_." His eyes suddenly light up with a mischievous gleam that I immediately distrust. Anything that makes the Joker happy can't be good. He takes my arm, and pulls me out the door. When we get to the main room, I see Jonathan turn and after a moment, his eyes meet mine. I see the questioning look- he's still waiting for my answer. I look down.

"Ya ready?" The Joker asks him.

"Yes." Jonathan's tone is clipped. "Everything is to your specifications."

"Good." The Joker laughs quietly as my heart sinks. Jonathan said the Joker wanted me worse. No, no no… "Good news, Lane." He continues. "Now you can live up to everybody's _expectations_." My eyes tear up, and I glance at Jonathan's face again. He's already in his mask, and my heart takes off.

"No!" I shout. The mask has triggered the memory of the gas from last night, and my body reacts instinctively. "Get _away_!" I jerk out of the Joker's grasp, and back up quickly. Scarecrows' head tilts and I screech. I turn around and flat out sprint toward the hallway.

I can't see straight. All I see is the mask. Everywhere I turn, I feel hot breath on my neck, and see his shadow lurking in my peripheral vision. I keep waiting for my control to slip into whatever power-induced high I had been feeling the past few days, but nothing happens. I don't feel the adrenaline, or the power. Could I be cured? Did Scarecrow cure me?

I stop running. If in fact he _did_ cure me, could he have done it on purpose? When did he do it?

Someone grabs my arm and jerks me around. His mask fills my sight of vision, and for once, I'm not scared. "Thanks." I mumble.

White smoke surrounds me. I cough as it burns my throat. I had completely forgotten that he was trying to catch me and make me worse. No! I was just cured! And now I'm going to get turned back into a psycho! My eyes water and I hear a soft whisper. "_You'd better be a good actorrr_."

Huh? Doubt plagues my thoughts and I wonder if I even heard him correctly. Did he even speak? My head suddenly feels like it's full of fuzz. I can't concentrate on what's happening.

I'm on the ground again. Where am I? Footsteps are somewhere close. Who am I with?

"She'll be disoriented for a while. It will wear off in about half hour." A man's voice says.

Jonathan Crane… I think. Why is it so hard to think straight?

"Well when's she gonna… _freak out_?" An excited laugh follows the second man's voice. Is that the _Joker_? My eyes fly open.

Sure enough, none other than the Clown Prince of Crime stands above me. Purple suit crisp, make-up smeared cross his face. Dark eyes alight with excitement and curiosity. I scramble backwards and try to get away. My back hits some sort of box behind me, and the Joker comes over quickly and grabs my arm pulling me to my feet. He peers into my eyes, and I cringe away from the contact. He smacks his lips together and turns back to Jonathan Crane.

"I don't see a difference Johnny-Boy." He sounds disappointed.

"You will. It takes time." Jonathan sounds bored.

I suddenly remember the reason all of this is happening. I'm supposed to be feeling worse now. I don't _feel_ any different. Not yet anyway… But if there is one thing I know about Crane's gasses, it's that he prides himself on the effects. If I don't have any effects right now, there has to be a chance that I won't be affected in the future, right?

The Joker shakes my arm, rattling me back into the present. "How ya' feelin' Lane? Feel cah-_razy_ yet?"

Jonathan's face catches my eye. He turns his head slightly and his eyes tighten a small amount. Almost as if he's trying to say something to me in that one moment.

"I… don't know." I mumble. My mind is stuck trying to figure out Jonathan's silent message.

"These things take time." Crane says, interrupting the awkward silence. He gives me a sharp look that I answer with a clueless shrug. I still have no idea what he wants me to say.

A loud crash makes me jump, but the Joker gets angry. He glances at me, as if making sure I was still standing there, and stalked off down the hallway without another word. A door slams open, then closed, and it takes me a moment to realize Harleen is down there somewhere. Could the Joker have noticed her absence as well?

Jonathan walks over quickly and talks just as fast. "Now I've given you your choice. I didn't make you worse, but I have made some… adjustments." He smiles as I shiver at his words. "You can say I've given you your agency so to speak. Remember, the Joker believes I have followed his requests, so if you value your life…"

"I'd better be a good actor" I say, looking down.

"Good." We can hear the Joker's approach, and without another word, Jonathan turns around and pick up his suitcase in a flowing motion. He is out the door and gone before the Joker returns.

I feel gratitude toward this man for giving me a chance, but I have no idea why he would do something that self-sacrificing for me. If the Joker ever found out…

I see the Joker come into the room and I have no idea what I'm supposed to be doing. How am I supposed to _act_ crazy? I guess I would have to start with how I acted on Scarecrow's gas originally. I clench my fists. I swivel my eyes around, taking in my surroundings, and try to accelerate my breathing.

The Joker sees me and smiles. He skips over to me, and his fingers twitch with anticipation. "How'ya feelin' _now_, Lane? _Cah_-razy?" He laughs.

I squint my eyes at him. "What do you think?" I spit. "You think I feel normal? Now that you've given me a bunch of different gasses?" I have to admit, it feels good to vent some of the anger I've been feeling lately. "Or are you just concerned about how well I'll be able to pull off being a criminal now?"

I should have guessed that my defiance would just amuse him further. He laughs and cackles in utter glee. I scowl.

I stalk away from him, and he seems amused at my temper. I'm looking for some sort of escape from him, because I need more time to figure out what I'm supposed to do. And then to top it all off, I still need to think about Jonathan's offer. Although I have no idea how I would ever find him now. It's not like I have his phone number…

Wait.

Back in the other warehouse, I had written it down… It was on a piece of paper on that desk! If I could somehow find my way back there… I could call him…

I need more time… I need to get away from the Joker. I can hear him coming toward me.

_BANG! _

It seems like Harleen just can't keep quiet anymore can she?

The Joker growls behind me, and stalks off. I hear him slam open a door, and follow him quickly. I can only hope for a few minutes. That's all I need really. Just a minute to think.

The Joker seems to leave a lot. I could find my way to that warehouse the next time he leaves. Maybe I could take Harleen. Between the two of us, we could probably figure it out, right? Yes. It's the only way.

A soft noise interrupts my musings. A sort of buzzing sound. It sounds familiar, and sends a soft shiver down my spine. I take a few steps and the noise seems to be behind the next box. It doesn't belong here though. But I know I've heard the noise before. I pass the box and skip back three steps. A wasp nest. The buzzing gets louder, and I feel a crawling spread along my arms. I look down and freeze. The small black and yellow insects are crawling on my arms. I am paralyzed with the fear.

A memory tugs at my thoughts. Stepping on a bees nest in the fourth grade. The hundreds of bees chasing me, and the sharp stings on my back. I had jumped into a river to get them off of me.

I shake my head a little to clear it, and look back at my arms. The wasps are gone. I look up and notice the hive missing as well.

What? I'm sure I saw it there. I saw the evil little insects on its papery skin. I glance at my arms again, and they are bare. Everything is as it should be. I take a few steps back and can't begin to think about what this means. Are these the "adjustments" Crane mentioned? Hallucinations?

I turn and try to get a hold of myself. I'm still alone, and I try to take the advantage.

I suddenly get an idea. Nothing could convince the Joker of my deteriorating mental capacities more than my absence. I could try and find the other warehouse right now. If he caught me, then I would just tell him I was looking for Batman. He'd probably get a kick out of my "ambition."

Without another word, I turn away and walk out the door. The cool air feels good against my face, and I feel the great sensation of freedom building within me. I knew that my only hope of staying away with even a chance at permanence would be with Crane. If the Joker found me alone, he would just take me back and I would be stuck. I head East, with no care in the world.

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><p><strong>Hope you all enjoyed! Reviews are certainly amazing! Just sayin'... haha. ;)<strong>


	19. Plan

**Hey again! I know it's been awhile, but I hope this is worth the wait a bit... :) **

**As always, I don't own anything related to DC comics or Christopher Nolan. ;-;**

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><p>I make it a few blocks and wonder how long it will take for him to notice my absence. Maybe he already had… The thought has me quicken my pace.<p>

I remember basics about the original warehouse we had stayed in, and so I look for familiar things. It needs to be abandoned, it needs to be large, and it needs to be out of the way. I pass old apartment buildings, abandoned stores, and even a boarded up hotel. But none of the empty buildings fit the bill. I continue to search, and notice something… _off_. Call it intuition, but I could feel someone's gaze on me. Were those footsteps behind me? I pause to listen, but the soft noise stops as well. I turn and look, but find myself alone. I start walking again, listening intently. I don't hear the sound of footsteps behind me.

I go back to searching. Too big, too small, none of the buildings fit my memory.

The wind blows, and I wrap my arms around my torso. There's something besides the chill that makes me shiver. Goosebumps cover my arms, and the hair stands up on the back of my neck. I pass an alley-way and pause. Was someone crying? I look inside and see a hunched figure in the shadows. By the sound of the whimpers, it is a woman.

"Excuse me? Miss? Are you alright?" I ask softly. It's probably a bad idea to talk with people in the Narrows, but she seems so helpless. She ignores me, and sobs continue to rock through her body. "Ma'am?" I walk up to her, and extend my arm to put on her shoulder, but it passes right through as if it weren't there.

I recoil my arm and look at my hand, shocked. I glance back up as the woman does, and find myself looking into the face of my Mother.

I skitter backwards and land on my backside, a surprised gasp escaping my lips.

I'm alone.

Where the crouched shape of my mom cried just a moment before, there is nothing but empty space. I put my head in my hands, and try to catch my breath. I can't do this. If I'm going to hallucinate every five minutes, I don't know what I'm supposed to do to handle it.

I contemplate just going back to the Joker's new warehouse instead of going on this insane venture, but hesitate. If I go back, I still need to fake being a psycho… Although with these hallucinations I don't doubt that it would _all_ be acting.

I turn the corner, and see it. The last warehouse. I don't know why it hits me with such certainty, but in that moment, I'm sure.

Its looming empty structure almost looks haunting. The bare metal roof glints in the sunlight in some places, but the majority is covered in thick orange rust. The sheet metal walls are peeling off in some places, and missing all together in others. It's definitely abandoned and out of the way. The Joker is written all over it.

I pause however, because the entire outside of the building is surrounded be bright yellow "Caution" tape. I can't imagine why it's there, and head inside the building after a few moments of confusion.

The slight scent of something rotten assaults my senses, and I plug my nose in disgust. I notice the outlines of bodies in tape on the floor and remember that Scarecrow killed the Joker's men. The smell is horrible, but I'm glad the bodies are gone. I don't know whether I would have been successful in my attempts to retrieve the phone number if the bodies were still here.

I hurry down the hallway, and into the Joker's room, only to find it stripped bare. I should have figured out that if the police were here, they would search the entire building. There is nothing in the room but an empty table toward the back wall. None of the objects are still around. I feel a sense of loss as I walk across the room. The table is mockingly bare, and there isn't anything I can do about it.

I turn and run from the room, determined to think of something that would make this trip outside anything but a complete waste of time. And to make matters worse, I have to return to the Joker without an excuse. Great.

The cold Gotham air hits me hard, and my eyes water from its bite. I wrap my arms around myself, and slowly make my way back to the current warehouse. It takes about half hour, but luckily, I remember my way. I walk into the slightly warmer room, and sigh. I don't know what entirely I was trying to achieve by going there, but I didn't get anything but a chill that won't go away.

The sound of a foot tapping makes me lift my head warily, and I see the Joker standing about 20 feet away.

"Listen, I-"

"Don't even start with me, Lane." He growls. "I have given you shelter, protection and freedom time and time again, and _this_ is how you repay me? Leaving randomly _again_?"

I'm strangely reminded of a reprimanding father by his tone.

"I just-"

"No, Lane. I've tried helping you in every way I can, and instead of being a _good_ criminal… You just find your way out of every little scheme I can think up! I don't even know why I should bother with you anymore." He spits on the floor.

"Fine." I hold my hands out to my sides. "What's your plan to get rid of me?" I'm beyond caring about his words. I feel deflated. Like everything I once had going for me has blown away in the wind.

He laughs loudly. "I can't ruin the surprise, Lane! That just wouldn't be any _fun_, now would it?"

"I guess not." I shrug. I can only hope it won't be super painful.

"Awww." His tone is mocking. "What'sa matter, Lane? Feeling a little blue?" He saunters over to me, and pulls my chin up. His eyes are dark, but shine with a spark of excitement I can't explain. The strange scent of his makeup makes my nose wrinkle, and he smirks. "What can I do to-uh, _help_, hmm?" He jerks my face side to side, and smacks my cheek twice.

"Explain why I'm still here."

"Well it's obvious that every ounce of time I invested in you went straight into the trash. Ya know, usually, I like a _little_ fight in people… But you, Lane… You just turned out to be a disappointment." He shakes his head in mock-sadness. "Oh well, I guess there's nothing we can do about it now." He pulls out a knife and flicks it open in one well-practiced movement, and begins to move it toward me.

I back up at a quick pace, putting my hands in front of me. "Please, no." I don't know what else to say… He doesn't think I'm good enough? What am I supposed to do? "Wait! What if I can… prove my worth?" It's a stretch but maybe it could work.

He pauses. "_Puh_-rove it, hmm?" A smile begins to grow on his face. "What-uh, _exactly_ did you have in mind?"

"I… Don't know. Something big?" I'm reaching for some idea; something that will allow me to live. "Batman?"

This stops him. "_Batman_? What could you do to him? Get caught?" He laughs loudly.

"I could… Lead him to you? So you could… catch him?" The plan is forming itself as I speak. Of course it would be simple. I already know Bruce Wayne is Batman so it will be no trouble finding him. The trick will be getting him back here without him catching me first. I could just leave first, but I'm sure the Joker will be keeping an eye on me until I bring him.

So, I bring Batman, him and the Joker get into some fight, and I escape without anyone the wiser. I could go find Crane, and have him fix my head. It's perfect. And it's not like the Joker will actually be able to catch Batman. He's unsuccessfully tried so many times in the past so what makes this time any different?

I look at the man in front of me. The Joker has uprooted me from my entire life. He's forced me to relive terrible memories and messed with my brain. But could he really be that bad?

Wait. That's a bad sign. There's some sort of name for feeling that way, right? Sympathy toward the captor… What's it called again?

The Joker clears his throat, distracting me. "_Catch_ the Batman, hmm? And how do you propose to do it, exactly?"

"Easy. He's looking to rescue Melanie Ryder. If I 'come out' from hiding, he'll follow me anywhere I go. And if he manages to grab me, you come out from wherever you're hiding, and catch _him._ An ambush."

I smile as I see the grin form on his face.

"Lane!" He sounds pleased. "I'm impressed… That gas really _did_ do something didn't it?"

"Sure…" I hesitate.

"We need to get things ready… You'll leave at dusk." He decides.

A few hours later, the Joker deems me ready. I'm dressed in the purple and green jumpsuit, and my face is painted. Now that the Newspaper has run my photo, everyone will recognize me. Hopefully my image will keep the thugs away, and the citizens that see me will notify law enforcement. Soon after that, Batman will show up, and I will lead him as close to this spot as possible. I can only hope that Bruce guesses the Joker's plan. I can also only hope that I will get my chance to get away.

I am armed with two switchblades which I have no intention of using, thick rings along my fingers for hand-to-hand, and even a grenade. I don't even know how to use the last one, or have a reason I would need to. But I just smile and nod my head as the Joker hands me the weapons. I need him to believe me fully, and have no suspicions of my ruse.

Throughout the day, I had two more hallucinations. One of my father, and one of a growling dog. Both times, I held my breath, and tried to look normal, but I think the Joker may have noticed me twitch for the second one. He only glanced my way for a moment or two, right in time to see my hands shaking, and I hope he just thought I was nervous about my new mission.

The Joker laughs once, and clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth with a satisfied smirk. I wonder if he really thinks I will be successful, or if he still is just waiting to get rid of me. Maybe he doesn't care either way. I don't think anyone will ever be able to understand him. Even Harleen.

"See ya' later, Lane. Remember, I'll _always_ be watching." He chuckles, pushing me out the door.

I take a moment outside to enjoy the sensation of freedom. I know I'm not in safe waters yet, because the Joker will be following me every step of the way to "See how the gas has affected my abilities without his prompts" as he had put it earlier. But the wind blowing across my face gives me a taste of what is coming. Pure freedom. My life will be unhindered by delusional clowns, strange psychiatrists, billionaires with secrets, or anyone else for that matter. I will truly be my own person.

I head out of the Narrows with a skip in my step, but as I near town, I slow down. I remember what it was like to act on Scarecrow's gas, and I let the memory move my muscles forward now. I slip into a crouch, and stick to the shadows. My eyes tighten slightly as I search for an answer. The sun has just set over the city, and the sky is a dark orange that is fading to deep blue by the minute. Batman should be coming out soon… But the question is _where_? Gotham City is huge, and I want to find him fast before I have to do something bad. I told the Joker I would try to lead the Batman out, and I know he's probably watching me somewhere, but I don't know if I actually have the guts to break the law enough to actually get Batman to come. Sure the police would come if I broke a window or something, but you need to do something _really_ bad for Batman to make his appearance.

I continue to walk through the shadows, and see something that catches my eye. Someone has left a newspaper on a bench, and I dart out of the shadows to grab it. "_Wayne to Host Orphan Benefit_," I read. I scan the article, and smile when I see that it is tonight. _Perfect_. All I have to do is get Bruce to see me, and maybe act a little intimidating. Then I make my exit with Batman on my heels. This is going to be easier than I thought.

Although when I get to his building, I realize it could be much harder. The doors are surrounded by Police officers. The frame of the building is being repaired from the Joker's last attempt to get me out of this place. The officers must realize that Bruce Wayne is often the target of crime, but apparently no one else has made the connection of Bruce Wayne and Batman. I make a circuit around the building twice, looking for an easy way in but just don't see one. I consider using the grenade, but that would cause a panic in the party; and all I need is for Bruce to see me, not cause more front page news. I wait nearly twenty minutes, and finally I see my chance. A woman has come out of a side exit and stumbled around drunkenly before tripping a short distance from the building. The surrounding officers have responded as all good gentlemen would, and hurry to help her. As soon as their backs are turned, I sprint to the building and slip inside.

I make my way up the stairs, slipping into hallways as needed to avoid the occasional bystander. Even if the Joker was watching me outside, there's no way he could see me in here. I know I'm safe from his eyes, and I relax a little. I make it upstairs quickly, and before long, I am only one floor away from the top. I hear the sound of people above me, and take a moment to make a rough plan of what I can do. Being Batman, Bruce has no need or want of police officers in his party. He can take care of himself, and he would have no need for officers. What I will need to deal with are innocent people. I don't want to accidently hurt someone or become hurt in the process. I need to keep the people away from me in order to insure that nothing happens. I pull out the grenade and hold a knife in my other hand. My face turns down into a scowl, and I run up the stairs before I can change my mind.

His door is open and at first, none of the fancy dressed people notices me. I shove past the first group and hold up the grenade.

"Party's over people!" I shout. A majority of the crowd turns quickly to see me, and I see a range of emotion. Fear, panic, disbelief, and one person even rolled their eyes. But one by one, they back away from me, and create a large bubble of space for me to walk around. I hopd the grenade up, and search for Bruce. He has to be here, right? This is his fundraiser! But as my searching face scans the crowd a third time, I realize that he really isn't here.

"Where is Bruce Wayne?!" I shout. The crowd only stares, but I see a few people begin to move. I'm not the typical hardened criminal they are used to seeing. I'm just a slight female that could just be trying to get attention holding a grenade, but not even really threatening to use it. I only have a few moments to get out before they realize I'm not a threat. I spin around and see probably the only thing that could stop me in this long moment of terror.

Alfred.

He is frozen in between me and the door holding a platter of various drinks. His suit is neat and clean, and he looks about the same as the last time I saw him. What stops me though, are his eyes. They are filled with a sadness that is so deep that it makes the air hitch in my throat. His eyes close in a gesture of disappointment, and before I realize it consciously, the grenade drops from my hand.

A force hits me from behind, and I am slammed into the ground hard. A man's harsh exclamation of pain comes from above me when I realize the knife I still held was embedded into his leg. But who's? I didn't want to stab anyone! I held the knife to keep them away!

My arms are pulled back behind my back, and the cold bite of the metal handcuffs stings my wrists. The man pulls me around so that I am facing the ceiling, and after my eyes get used to the glare of the lights overhead, I see the man has glasses, and a thick mustache. I remember him from somewhere. My mind struggles to remember his name.

Everything is happening too fast. He pulls me to my feet, and groans when he puts weight on his left leg. Red is beginning to seep through his expensive looking tuxedo pants, and I grimace. He begins to push me toward the door after putting both the bloody knife and the grenade in his pocket.

I try to avoid looking at people's faces as we pass but something triggers me to look up. I meet the gaze of a man standing tastefully behind the front line of people. He has blondish hair that is greased back, and dark brown eyes that look extremely familiar. Instead of fear or anger, he only looks amused. There is something so familiar about his lopsided smirk… He licks his lips in almost a twitch, and it all clicks in that one moment. I'm too far to see the scars on the side of his mouth, but I know where they should be.

I suck in a shocked gasp, and he melts back into the crowd. I try to turn and find his face again, but the man who's arrested me just pushes me toward the door harder.

As we leave the building, I realize that I never even glimpsed Bruce Wayne, and that this trip was nothing but a waste of time. And the Joker was there and saw the whole thing. I really messed things up.

"Alright, in the back..." The man says roughly, pushing me gently into the back of an unmarked car.

The door closes and I watch him limp around to the driver's side with a lump in my throat. He gets in with a groan, and shakes his head slowly.

"Uh," I clear my throat. "Are you going to be okay to drive?"

The man just huffs quietly, and ignores me. He drives us around the corner and down about two blocks when a bulky black car I immediately recognize as Batman's pulls out in front of us.

The man in the front seat laughs a tired laugh and says, "Figures he would find out."

"What do you mean?" I ask, which he ignores again.

Oh, right. I stabbed him. Of course he would ignore me.

"For the record," I say quietly. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm sorry that I did." He sighs and gets out of the car.

He limps forward to meet the shaded figure of Batman and seems to wave off his concern. He waves back in my direction and gestures back toward the penthouse.

I have to get out of here. My hands are handcuffed behind me though, and I have no idea what to do. But I have to get out. Especially now that Batman is here. It's gonna be difficult with my arms tied, but not impossible. Especially because the Joker is still probably watching and all I need to do is get him separated from the cop before he steps in.

I'm happy to notice that because this isn't a normal police car, the doors have handles, and I am quick to take the advantage. I pull my leg up and- using my toes- pull the handle open.

"Hey!" The man's voice yells.

It's too late to turn back now, I have no time. I lunge out of the car and run for it. I have a vague impression of where I am, and so I know I need to head east to get back to the Narrows. But it's night, and I don't have the sunlight to guide me. I recognize a street not far ahead, and I smile to know it heads directly into the Narrows.

I hear the Tumbler behind me, and turn quickly onto the street. My feet pound against the pavement and the air heaves in and out of my lungs. Between the exertion and the panic, I'm running out of steam fast. I panic and dive behind a dumpster, and huddle into a ball. A few moments pass, and the Tumbler doesn't pass. Where did he go? Did he not see me turn onto this street? Did I lose him? How am I supposed to find him again?

A hand falls onto my shoulder and the scream of terror gets stuck in my throat. I turn and see none other than Batman.

"Melanie, stop. We need to talk."

Oh crap.

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><p><strong>Well, there it is! I hope you enjoyed it, and as always, reviewscritism/advice is always welcomed! :D If you couldn't tell, the story is moving slowly to a close... I'm not sure exactly how many chapters are left, but there aren't many... :D Thanks again!**


	20. Surprises

**Here we are! :) Hope you enjoy the quick pace of this one...**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Batman... :(**

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><p>"Melanie," Batman begins, "I know you're in a complicated position right now, but you need to listen to me." His gravelly voice is as distracting as ever. "You also need to understand that your actions are causing your future great harm. You've gone from a hostage to an actual criminal, and it's not looking good. You actually stabbed Commissioner Gordon. That's not something that is easily written off."<p>

"I didn't mean to stab anyone." I say, looking at the ground.

"Well you created a hostage situation and there are a lot of witnesses of the incident. That doesn't leave a lot of room for an innocent plea. Although you may have a chance at insanity."

"I'm not insane!" I say, defensive. Although judging by my new hallucinations, the statement almost tastes like a lie.

He reaches out to take my handcuffed arms.

"Melanie, why did you come to my penthouse tonight? You singled me out by name."

"It's kind of a long story." I hedge, not wanting to give up the details.

"I take it the Joker hasn't let you go…" He gestures to my painted face and outfit. "I have a difficult time believing that you've branched off on your own."

The handcuffs fall off my wrists after a moment.

"What are you doing?" I rub my wrists, trying to get the feeling back.

"Melanie, I have faith in you. You've made some mistakes, but if I were to take you in right now, Gordon would have you detained. If I were to wait a day or so, I can talk to him first, and chances are that you can get a minimal punishment if any. Do you understand?"

"I… think so." As much as I like his plan, I'm worried. What if the Joker is watching all of this? What if he figures out about my new plan? And if I return to the warehouse without Batman, what will he do?

"Good. I'll find you in forty-eight hours."

A passing car distracts me for a moment. "How?" I glance back, and he's gone.

The trip back is uneventful, and the closer I get, the more nervous I become.

I finally get there, and open the door slowly.

The Joker stands in a lone patch of sunlight streaming from a broken skylight. The sunlight creates dark shadows across his face and I can't see his eyes. His hands are balled up in fists, and his suit is a crisp and clean purple. It's an image that would make someone seriously afraid of clowns.

"It didn't work." I say.

"Lane?" He asks in a low voice.

"Yeah, it's me. As I said, it didn't work. I couldn't find him."

His face turns down in confusion, and he takes a few steps in my direction. "What are you doing here?" His voice matches his face.

"What do you mean? I followed the plan. I tried to find Batman, and failed. Now I'm back. Why do you sound so surprised?"

"I _watched_ you last night. I saw you at the par_-tay_. You even saw me." He licks his lips and leans close to my face, making me nervous. "And I saw you… get _arrested._"

"Well, I escaped."

"Hmm." He purses his lips. "Maybe I underestimated you, Lane. Impre_ssive." _He grabs my shoulders and leers down at me.

A shocked high-pitched gasp comes from behind him.

"Mistah Jay?! What are you _doin_' with _her_?" I the voice is high pitched and whiney. A woman stomps over to where we are standing, and I hear the sharp _clack clack clack_ of heels. "You told me she was leaving!" She shouts.

The Joker lets out an annoyed moan, and spins around. "_Harley_! I told you to wait! What is it with girls and ruining surprises, hmm?"

Harley? The voice didn't sound like Harleen… It was too high pitched and whiney to be her, right?

I glance around the Joker, and can't believe what I see. The blonde woman in front of me is the same size and height as Harleen, and has blonde hair pulled into two pig-tails. But as I force myself to try and piece everything together, I can't deny the proof in front of me. She is wearing a tight tank top that is black on one side and red on the other. Her pants are the same, but the colors are on the opposite sides than the shirt. She has three painted black diamonds on her left shoulder and under her right eye. She has black makeup over both eyes like a mask.

She meets my gaze and her hands ball up in fury.

"I can't believe you brought _her_ back!" She whines. "You told me she was _gone_!"

"Harley!" The Joker growls, taking a step toward her. "Stop. _Now_."

"But Mistah-" The Joker smacks her across the face so hard that she falls over. Her hand flies to her face, and she looks up at him, suppressing a whimper.

"Harley, I told you to be quiet. Don't. Disobey me…_Again_." He looks back at me and giggles. "Isn't she great? She's everything I'd hoped for you and _more_! Too bad I wasted all of Scarecrow's gas on _you_… Harley here could have used it better." He chuckles.

"What are you talking about?" I ask quietly.

"I watched you all last night, and you didn't do anything that Scarecrow said you would. And for what I paid him, I expected something much more… _Grandeur_. But it looks like something went wrong."

Harleen gets to her feet, and scowls at me.

"What happened to you?" I ask her.

"Hmph." She crosses her arms. "I'm what the Joker wanted all along. He never wanted you."

"But, I was here yesterday… and you weren't." I struggle to make sense of everything. The Joker must have assumed me gone and arrested or rescued or whatever, and gone with a different plan. The thought of him giving up so easily on me puts an ache in my chest. Oh sure, I've been trying to get away since day one, but I thought that he would spend a _little_ time trying to get me back, or worrying or something.

"I've been here all along, doll. I just needed to act all scienc-ey and crap so you'd _trust_ me. Did I do good puddin'?" She turns toward the Joker who smiles down at her.

"Of course you did, Harley. Now go get everything ready." He chuckles, and she leans up to kiss him before running off.

What?! They _kiss_ too? And she's _willing_? The ache grows stronger, and angry tears threaten to pool in my eyes.

"Now Lane, you've presented me with a-uh, _problem_ now, and I'm not sure what to do about it. You see, I wasn't really planning for you to come back, and well, now you're here. You see, it's not _you_… it's me… Actually no, it _is_ you." He cackles loudly at his attempt at a joke. "And frankly, I'm tired of dealing with you."

I already know where this is going. He'll pull out a knife, threaten me, and possibly even finish the job this time. After all, now he has Harleen… Or Harley or whatever he wants to call her. Why would he need me? It makes sense.

But instead of pulling out a knife, he pulls out a gun and tosses it to me. "Catch."

The heavy metal lands in my open hands roughly, and I hold it awkwardly. "What's this for?"

"Nothin' but a little proof." He chuckles.

"Huh?"

"Oh, I almost forgot." He walks behind a box, and comes back holding his hand away from his body. I stare at it mystified, and only feel confused as I see bright red contrasting with the purple gloves. He wipes his hand over my chest, smearing the red across in a bloody streak. Bloody? Is this _blood_?

"You never know, you might be able to save him…" He says casually with a shrug.

"Save him? Who are you talking about?" He just laughs, and flicks out a knife. Before I can react, he grabs my hair, cuts a chunk out, and stuffs it in his pocket.

"So I'll remember…" He chuckles, and twists away, leaving me extremely confused, reaching up to feel the missing piece of my hair. When he is out of sight, he calls back, "And ya never know. Maybe I'll bump into ya at Arkham… Or not." His laughter echoes around the walls, and fades until all I can hear is the sound of my own breathing.

So… The Joker just… _Left_? With Harleen? Am I free? Questions buzz through my head and make it hard to concentrate. I look down and see the red across my chest again prompting me to look behind the box the Joker leaned behind. My stomach churns with my unease, and I try to relax. He's just pranking me again, right? Some sort of sick joke.

I put my hand on the edge of the box, and am just about to look around it when piercing sirens seem to explode around me. I had completely forgotten about the gun in my hand, but my hand tightening around the metal frame reminds me. I spin around, the mystery behind the box forgotten, and try to find the source of the noise. I hear doors slam on both of the main sides of the building, and the sound of running feet.

"We have the place surrounded!" A male voice shouts. "Come out with your hands in the air!"

Are they talking to _me_? Or have they figured out that this is the Joker's hiding place?

A man runs inside the man room and dives behind a box. His head pops up and I can see the fear in his eyes. I can tell he's a new officer because his suit is crisp and clean, and his voice is shaking so bad it almost sounds like a bad stutter.

"G-g-get on the ground! I'm w-warning you!" His tone is actually very weak as well, and lacks the authority that most police offices have. Instead of cooperating, my head tilts, and I ask him a question.

"Why didn't they send someone experienced?"

His gun flies out and points at me. "I said g-g-get on the g-ground!" His voice squeaks.

This is going to end badly unless I really cooperate.

"Okay." I say slowly. I raise my hand with the gun out, and gently lower it to the ground. I move to take a step backwards when I hear someone coming in from behind me.

Two things happen at once.

My head swivels back in a moment of self-preservation, and I hear a sound like a firework. A force hits me in my left shoulder, knocking me to the ground backwards, and my head hits the concrete hard. I look around dizzily and see figures storing in around me. It takes me a moment, but I try to figure out what hit my shoulder.

A deep crimson is blossoming under my silly outfit, and a dull throbbing is beginning to form underneath it.

"Get a medic!" Someone shouts, although the ringing in my ears makes it hard to concentrate.

The figures become less and less focused until all that's moving above me are shadows. Light dark, light dark. The light patches become less and less frequent and before I really realize it, the darkness surrounds me in a blanket of silence.

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><p><strong>Cliff-hanger! :D :D :D Don't hate me... haha. I figured this was an okay place to stop it... :) which do you all prefer? Long chapters but time in between updates, or shorter chaps with quick updates? Reviews make me SUPER happy! :D <strong>


	21. Accused

**Okey-dokie... Here's another one. One person voted and said shorter chapters with faster updates, so here it is! :D Hope you all enjoy this...**

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><p>The weeks pass in a blur, days running into each other. Technically I was only supposed to stay about five days after surgery, but I've found out that I'm actually on trial for something, so they keep me here to watch me and put me through physical therapy. My wrists are secured to the rails and my ankles are loosely restrained as well. Whatever they think I did, it must be bad.<p>

I've tried asking questions but no one talks to me. My physical therapist tells me what to do, but otherwise ignores me. Don't I have rights? If I'm on trial, I deserve to know the reason right?

Finally, after about a month I get a visitor. Commissioner Gordon (I finally figured out his name), comes into my room without a limp. I'm glad to see that there doesn't appear to be any permanent damage to his leg. He pulls up a chair and it grates against the linoleum floor with a quiet scratch. He holds a manila envelope and pulls out a thick packet of papers, while sitting down with a sigh.

"So…" He begins, adjusting his glasses. "Miss Ryder… Do you have any way to excuse your actions?"

"I really didn't mean to hurt you sir. It was an accident."

"Not concerning me." He says with a wry smile. "Concerning the man you killed."

"_What_?!" My voice shoots up three octaves in shock. "I didn't kill anyone!"

"Miss Ryder, off the record… I believe you. I strongly believe it was the Joker, but the evidence all points at you I'm afraid."

"What evidence?" I ask quietly.

"Your fingerprints are on the gun that killed him, and you were found covered in his blood. The body was found behind a box that- according to the prosecutors- you were guarding. That along with the fact that the courts are aware of your little tryst at Wayne's fundraiser didn't really convince a jury of your innocence. I'm sorry."

"Didn't? When was the trial?" I ask softly.

"It was this morning. I've come to escort you to Arkham Asylum. I'm afraid you've been sentenced there for psychiatric evaluation. There were a few things that turned up in your blood test that made the doctors nervous. They want to evaluate you in a secure location away from outside interference before they make a final ruling."

"Wait. _Who_ is it that they say I killed? I don't have any sort of motive to kill anyone!"

"A man named Nicholas Garner. He worked at the same newspaper you worked for and was the person that took the photo that ended up on the front page. That's motive."

"Nicholas Garner?" I repeat. Although I remember the day he took that photo outside the McDonald's, I never knew who he was… And now he's dead… Because of _me_. The thought puts a lump in my throat.

"When are we going to Arkham?" I whisper.

"In a few minutes. There are a few papers and things to be signed… Procedure you know." He stands up and adjusts his suit coat. "Oh, and for the record, I forgive you about the knife incident."

I return his smile, and he leaves the room.

A few minutes of quiet pass, and I almost feel sleepy. I feel like I'm in a dream. I would have never guessed they would send me to Arkham Asylum, but even now that they have, the panic and worry doesn't touch me. They probably have a sedative still running through the tubes in my arm.

Two thumps hit the door to my room, followed by a sliding sound down the wall. The door opens and a nurse walks inside dressed a little strange. She has the white uniform of the rest of the nurses, but also has a hat and a mask covering her face. She walks over to my bed and at first, all I can think is that she wears a _lot_ of dark make-up. Then I see the white around the black and my heart sinks.

"No." I say softly.

She pulls off her mask, and my nightmare becomes real. _She_ of course is actually _him_. The Joker. Dressed as a nurse. Ick.

"Uh… _Hi._" He says almost sheepishly.

"What are you _doing_ here?! Leave me alone!" I say harshly.

"I just can't do that Lane." He says, shaking his head back and forth slightly. "You see, I… Have a problem. And I need _you_ to help _me_."

"I wouldn't help you in a million years. You framed me for murder." I spit.

"No, no, no. _Harley_ framed you for murder. She's the one that killed him. And I can help you prove it... All you gotta to do is talk to Jonathan Crane. He'll help you get what you need to prove your innocence, and keep Harley in Arkham. To think that I ever thought I could replace you, Lane! What a big mistake that was…"

"What do you mean, keep her there?"

"Well she's there right now. She went back to make sure you stayed put and she got _caught_ in the process the little brat. But she's gonna get back out if you don't take advantage of the time you stay there."

"It's not my problem. I can't help you." I want nothing more to do with the Joker, and even if that means rotting in jail, it's better than making things worse by hanging around with _him_.

"Oh yes you can…" The Joker leans forward with a growing smile and pushes on my injured shoulder with an open hand. He laughs at my sharp gasp of pain, and pats it again twice. My arm begins to throb in time with my pulse. "What do you say, Lane? A little help for an old friend?"

"Never."

I can't hold back the cry of pain as he digs his finger into the muscle again. Sure the wound is healed, but the doctors say I may have permanent damage in a few muscles.

"Are ya' _sure_, Lane?" His voice gets a little lower with hidden anger as his fingers press even harder. My breathing turns to gasps and I feel nauseated and dizzy.

"Okay!" I say quickly. "Okay okay okay! I'll help you!" The pressure disappears instantly followed by the Joker's easy laugh.

"I just _knew_ you'd help me, Lane."

"Yeah, you're welcome." I say sourly.

"Hmm…. You're right. I didn't _thank-uh_ you did I?"

"It's fine. Thank me later." I say. Truthfully I don't want any sort of his gratitude or fakeness and it would probably just tick me off if he tried.

"Nooo, you definitely deserve a-uh… token of my gratitude." He smirks and leans down to me.

His hand grips my cheek and his chapped lips touch mine for a moment.

"_What the_-" A man's startled voice comes from the door and the Joker stands up. He spins around, pulls out a gun, and shoots the man in the abdomen in a well-practiced move. The man grunts and grabs his stomach, falling over. The Joker heads toward the door, and at the last second, turns around to give me a final wink before disappearing.

The man- who I now notice to be an officer- pulls out his walkie-talkie and speaks into it quickly.

"Code one! The Joker is leaving the fourth floor. All units respond immediately!" He takes a break to cough harshly. "Medic needed." He adds.

The man lays on the floor moaning quietly to himself, and Commissioner Gordon appears in the doorway.

"What _happened_?!"He demands at me then faces the hallway. "Can't we get a medic here already? This _is_ a hospital isn't it?" He steps over the injured officer and comes over to the side of the bed. "We're leaving _now_."

A group of doctors rush in then, and attend to the man on the floor. A few nurses accompany them and one comes inside to tend to me.

"Are you injured?" She asks in a calm voice.

"No."

"Alright." She turns to Gordon. "I just need to take out these needles and monitors and she should be good to go."

"Hurry." He says flatly.

She removes everything quickly, and I can't help wincing as she moves my shoulder around.

"Is that painful? Your records show that you had been improving mobility lately."

"No, I'm fine." I say, breathing through my teeth at the jolts of pain that continue down my arm.

"We don't have time to worry about it." Gordon urges. "All inspection can wait until we reach Arkham.

The nurse looks like she is about to disagree but a doctor calls her for assistance.

"All right then. Everything is in order for her to be transferred. Have a nice day." She smiles and walks briskly from the room.

Gordon tosses me a flat grey jumpsuit and a grey pair of shoes. "Hurry and get dressed. I'll be right outside this room so don't try anything."

I nod slowly and follow his instructions. The fabric is slightly scratchy and not very comfortable, but who wants inmates to be comfortable anyway? I sigh and walk out of the room slowly so I don't freak anyone out again and Gordon puts my hands behind my back gently. The metal of the cuffs is cold, but I don't complain. I follow him along the hallways and outside into his car.

~/~

It's been three weeks since the hospital and once again, life is beginning to get a pattern. I mostly stay in my small cell and go to therapy. Meals are generally brought to my room because when I first got here, I refused to leave to eat with the "good behavior" inmates. Technically we're all called 'patients', but there is no difference in this place. We're all criminals and they all think they can "help us" but all they really want to do is find some miracle cure so they can get famous. It's sick. This is all just a big testing site and we're all the lab rats.

On the rare occasion that I leave my little cell to go to therapy or wherever I've tried to find Crane, but I'm in the wrong place. I found out initially that serious criminals like Crane were locked up tight, and I wasn't going to find him here. Sure he's _somewhere_ in the Asylum, but not around here.

Another week passes, and once again it's time to go to "therapy." I don't care too much for my psychiatrist. He's middle aged and balding with an attitude problem. He drills me with the same questions over and over until I just shut up and refuse to talk to him anymore. I probably could be released by now, but I just can't cooperate with the stupid man.

The guards lead me into the padded room, and I get a surprise. He's not there. Whoever my new psychiatrist is, she's sitting in a chair turned away from me, and I can see her blonde hair pulled up into a bun.

The guards sit me down, and restrain my ankles to the sought-iron chair. Strangely they leave my hands unchained, although they are still handcuffed.

"Miss Ryder…" She begins in an almost familiar voice. "You say you've been held captive by the criminal known as the Joker, and that the crimes you are accused of are not your fault, am I correct?"

"Well, yeah. That's what happened." I say.

"Interesting. And can you tell me why you committed those crimes?"

"I already told you I didn't, Doctor."

She turns around and my eyes go wide with a mixture of panic and shock.

"Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Dr. Harleen Quinzel. I'm your new psychiatrist."

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><p><strong>Another cliff-hanger! If you have any questions don't hesitate to ask! Although I'm sure some will e answered in the next chapter... Thanks again for reading!<strong>


	22. Promises

**Okay, so without even realizing it, I finished it. Yep. This is the last chapter... It's actually kind of bittersweet. I've been writing this since April and now it's done. I hope you all enjoy it :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Batman... Christopher Nolan is ignoring my emails... ;)**

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><p>"Harleen!" I say, jumping to my feet only to be knocked down again by the restraints. "How did you get here? Guards! Guards! Help! This woman works with the Joker! Get me out of here! <em>She<em> killed that man! Not me! _Her_!"

Two guards hold me down, and one moves to remove the restraints, but Harleen stops them.

"No, I'm fine. This is all very interesting." She adjusts her glasses and folds her arms across her desk. "Miss Ryder, I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm a psychiatrist here, not a criminal. Let's talk about you now."

"No. I'm never going to say anything to you, you backstabbing witch! I _trusted_ you! I thought we could both escape! But turns out you're just a psycho like _he_ is!"

"Miss Ryder, you must be confused. I have been on sick leave the past three months. I'll tell you, Mono sure isn't fun, that's for sure…" She chuckles softly.

"You didn't have Mono, you freak! You were trapped with me for _weeks_! And you killed that man to get rid of me! The Joker told me everything!"

My chest is heaving with my anger and shock, and I just can't believe that _Harleen_ is sitting across the desk from me.

"So you believe that you have had interaction with the Joker? Please explain." She says professionally.

I realize that I'm going to get nowhere. Harleen is here and that means that I'm going to be deemed insane or guilty or whatever she decides is fit. The Joker sent me in here thinking that I was going to get back out, but the truth is painfully obvious now. All he really wanted to do was get rid of me. With Harleen on his side, he could have anything happen to me. His last and final joke.

She waits for my answer, but I press my lips together tightly. We watch each other for a solid five minutes, and finally she adjusts her papers again.

"Well, Miss Ryder, I see we are getting nowhere. I think we are done for today, and I'll see you next time." She smiles pleasantly at me and I scowl at her as she leaves the room. The guards return and almost drag me back to my cell. The door slams and I begin to pace. I need a new plan and I need one fast.

~/~

The next few days are the same. I'm brought to Harleen's office, and she acts clueless as ever, frustrates me and pushes me closer to the edge of my control. I hate every word she says to me, and every time she smirks it sends a tingle of rage through my spine. I take the hour of "therapy" in silence, and finally she dismisses me again. I feel raw energy and pent up aggression buzzing around me like an angry swarm of bees, and I know I can't take it much longer.

If I _ever_ see the Joker again…

About a week later, I sit in the chair and look at Harleen's face. Her blue eyes are lit up with some sort of twisted excitement and I know that today's going to be different. Whatever she has planned is going to be a turning point and there won't be any going back.

"Hello, _Doctor_." I say sarcastically. "How's the Joker doing? Has he _killed_ anyone lately?"

"Miss Ryder, I'm not sure what you're getting at. Of course you know that I don't know the answer to that. But let's get started shall we? I've discussed it with some of my colleagues, and we have a surprise for you today." She smiles and I see just a trace of dark humor to it.

The door opens behind us, and I turn my head cautiously. There's a woman accompanied by two guards in the same bleak jumpsuit that all of the inmates wear. She has thin greasy brown hair, and holds her hands together nervously while her eyes twitch around the room. The sight of her almost knocks me out of my chair with shock.

"_Mom_?" I gasp quietly.

Her eyes narrow when she hears my voice, but her head turns and she looks at me. I wish that I could have seen any sort of recognition in them, but they just glance over to Harleen next, and then continue to twitch around the room.

I try to stand, and once again forget about the chains around my ankles. I stumble back into my chair, and she glances at me again, a wary look of simple child-like curiosity on her face.

"Mom, it's me. Melanie." I say with a lump in my throat. She looks at me blankly again, then returns to scanning the room. "Look at me! _Please_!"

She looks at me, slightly concerned, and makes a noise that sounds like denial. She waves her hands around her a little and begins backing from the room. The guards lead her out and the door closes with a solid click.

"Funny how things happen like this" Harleen says casually. "Mother and daughter end up in the very same Asylum. In fact, the very same Asylum that people like Zsasz, Hugo Strange, and even the man known as "Killer Croc" reside. It would be a shame for either of you to run into one of them now wouldn't it?" She winks at me and her smile turns into a subtle leer.

She just threatened my mother! My mouth pops open with a gasp and her eyes twinkle with the knowledge that she has gotten to me. My hands ball up into fists and my entire frame starts shaking with blinding fury.

"See you tomorrow." She says with an evil grin.

"Don't touch her! Don't you dare do anything to her!" I scream. The guards move quickly and un-restrain my feet and as they stand up I push one down, and kick the other one in the gut. Harleen is my only target, and I jump toward her around the table. My entire focus is on wiping that smile off of her face and I don't see the shock-stick in her hands until it is too late.

It feels like being stabbed with fifty knives, and forks across my side and torso in a pure moment of electrifying intensity. In that one infinite moment, I lose control of everything. My body hits the floor and my muscles spasm with left over bits of electricity. My side burns like a festering fire, and shivers race from my head to my feet. She bends over to me and whispers in my ear so that whatever microphones are recording us don't hear.

"Face it, _Lane_. There's nothing you can do to stop us. And if we get any hints that you're going to try something, well, you never know what can happen to your mother here. Accidents _do_ happen after all."

She stands up and brushes herself off as the guards pull me to my feet and drag me out into the hallway. They take me down an unfamiliar hallway and through several security gates. Wherever we're going, it's not my cell. As the third security gate closes, we are in a holding ward that has thick clear plastic instead of bars covering the cells. I can see the shrouded figures of some of the inmates, and some just stand right behind the glass as they watch me. One man stands out as he watches me from behind the plastic, and I find myself returning his dark smile.

I finally found Doctor Crane.

His bright blue eyes seem to ask me again, "_Want to escape this_?" and I don't need to think about the answer. I nod my head and his smile grows wider with the thrill of the new challenge.

As luck would have it, my cell is directly across from his, and they shove me in roughly. When they leave, I sit on the concrete bench and watch across at the man. I tap my wrist and raise my eyebrows at him for fear that our voices are still being recorded. He doesn't appear to have the same fear because he clearly mouths,

"Tomorrow."

I nod back at him and lay down. The concrete isn't comfortable, but it doesn't bother me. To think that a few months ago I was plain old Melanie Ryder, the struggling journalist in a crappy part of Gotham City. The Joker took me away from everything I knew and turned it inside out in his psychopathic way of trying to prove something, but because I wouldn't cooperate, he decided to try with someone else. Now I'm here in the Asylum about to attempt an escape with another known criminal who strangely, I trust. I'm not a criminal nor do I plan to become one, but I know my shot at a "normal" and boring life is gone. I can't change the past, and all I can do is move forward from it.

The Joker is a piece of work. He thrives on destruction and proving his twisted point. He has stripped me of everything I once thought of myself and turned me into a new person who deserves her revenge. But like I said, I'm not going to be a criminal.

But going after the Joker wouldn't really be breaking the law, right?

I'm not on Batman's side. Although he wants to catch the Joker he always seems to let him "slip out" of his grasp. The two of them have something going that I'm not sure anyone could ever understand fully. I believe in the law, but I don't believe in the way Batman is upholding it. I need my own justice. I want the Joker to fear _me_. And I have the right person to help me achieve those goals.

~/~

The next morning I wake and watch as the guards open Crane's cell. He gives me a wink before they shove him roughly and lead him away. When they disappear, I'm surprised because two guards come for me. Usually my therapy is in the afternoon, so I'm clueless as to why they are taking me out now. They lead me through the many security clearances, and for a moment, one of the guards catches my eye.

The look in his eyes is repressed terror. He averts his gaze as soon as we make eye contact and I don't understand how a guard at Arkham Asylum could be _afraid_ of me… I haven't done anything!

He leads me through a new set of hallways, and I end up just feeling lost and confused. Finally we get to a set of double doors, and into a room filled with big metal tanks that make a lot of noise. I've seen places like this in old movies and make the connection. This is the boiler room where the entire Asylum's heating is powered.

They lead me around the machines and along the back wall and a thought oozes into my mind that makes me alert. Two men have brought me back to an isolated part of the asylum. The thought of them taking advantage of me makes my hands shake in angry nervousness.

But fortunately, they don't make a move toward me and only lead me further back. We make it to a small vent that's cover is removed.

They let go of me and unlock my restraints quickly, pushing me toward the hole in the wall. I'm confused but I don't hesitate. I crawl through the hole quickly and along the metal tube. It's cold and musty, but big enough for me to fit comfortably as I crawl along.

After a few minutes, I begin to hear the sound of the wind and smile. I soon actually _feel_ the breeze coming through and turn the final corner. Someone has removed the outside cover as well, and I crawl through it eagerly. I stand up and brush the dust off my pants and look around.

"Good job. I'm impressed for a first timer." A voice says.

I swivel around but don't see anyone.

"The only question I have," The voice continues, "is why you went so quickly. What made you change your mind, Melanie?" He steps out into the partial light and I can see the piercing blue of his eyes.

"My mind was already made up, Crane. I just needed the proper motivation."

"I see." He sounds amused. "And now what's your plan? To run back to the Joker and become his little puppet again?"

"No. I want the Joker to feel every ounce of the fear he put in my heart."

He grins. "Interesting. And how do you plan on doing that?"

"I need your help."

"Excellent." He breathes.

Without another word, we walk into the shrubs and head toward the city, keeping to the shadows. A few hours later, we make it to a run-down apartment that he seems to be familiar with. Inside are bottles and bottles of various liquids and various scientific looking instruments. We change out of our Arkham garb and into some less conspicuous clothing.

He gets to work immediately, messing around with beakers and such, so I wander toward the window. I watch the streets of Gotham below me, wondering where it's all headed. I pledge to not harm another citizen and to rid the city of its self-proclaimed prince of crime. Crane can do whatever he wants as far as I'm concerned, but I have my own goals.

A short time later has calls my attention and I wander back over. As he holds up the mask for my inspection, a smile grows on my face. It's made of the same material as his, but has a purple painted smile over the mouth.

There's no question that when I find the Joker, I _will_ make him fear me. He wanted me to be this way, and now I am. Sure it's not exactly what he wanted, but I don't care…

He tried to control me, but now I've realized something that should have been obvious from the beginning…

You can't control chaos.

* * *

><p><strong>Sooooo, did I end it okay? I have contemplated writing a sequel, but I'm not sure if you all would be interested in that... So let me know please! :D Thanks to everyone that has reviewedfavorited... You guys are amazing and I would have never finished this story without you. So hear's a toast to the best fans out there. **

**Thanks guys. Really :)**

~_**Crazylanie93**_


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